When I was very little, my assignment was to let the hen with chicks out of the coop where they had spent the night. It was a bit daunting because the anxious hen would fly at the door in anticipation of being released. So, the opening of the screen door had to be timed to avoid a collision with the bird at eye-level.
Now, in my old age, I go out to fill the feeder with bird seed and strew fish food on the pond for the waiting snapping turtle. I wish he’d develop a taste for the Mexican water lilies clogging the center of the pond. Whatever devoured the white ones does not seem to like the yellow.