A couple married long enough learn to make a bed. Standing on either side, they synchronize the spreading and smoothing of sheets and patchwork quilts stitched by a stranger's hand. Side by side and heel to heel, a couple make a bed. They sleep in it and lie, and lie, and sleep. Everyone's busy in my backyard.
Small citizens spring with enterprise, urgently called by divine deadlines.
Incompetence is the dodo's prize. Innately skilled to manage their lives squirrels chat without tips from Carnegie, crack nuts without Cordon Bleu degrees, clean house without hints from Heloise. The romantic sparrow builds three nests to lure one fussy wife. The mayfly copulates incessantly and dies. So claw and wing and fur multiply.