Today I watched—not without some surprise—as a blackbird ate quite a few of the cherry tomatoes I've been growing since March. It flew straight onto the patio and hopped quickly over to them. I was sitting just six feet away, expecting it to notice me and fly away. To my surprise, it didn't. It kept picking them, lots of them, by the way.

I could've shooed it away, but watching it so close on a sunny morning, surrounded by green leaves and flowers was a beautiful scene worth a few tomatoes. I'll call it Swiper, you know, because of "Swiper, no swiping!" It had it coming. On top of being a petty thief, it sings up a storm every night.