Close friends and faithful readers of this journal know that I hate birds.
Or do I?
This past Sunday, Juliana and I went to the San Diego Wild Animal Park.
We walked along a path and encountered a man-made marsh, where two pelicans sat before us, one of them watching two young chicks.
I started taking lots of pictures when a beautiful white egret flew high into the trees.
I mumbled something.
"Do you know what you just said?" Juliana began. "I'm not sure I even know you anymore. You just said that you love birds."
"There is no way I said that."
"Maybe you need to qualify your bird statement," Jules said. "You don't hate all birds. You just hate pigeons."
"I guess you're right. I like ducks. I like pelicans. I guess I just hate pigeons. And gulls."
And to qualify my bird hating statement -- I also hate massive flocks of birds flying overhead that could potentially poop on me.
But I do love ducks. And pelicans.
My whole world just turned inside out.
(As an aside, the cheetahs at the Wild Animal Park rock!)