Today on our walk, Sarah and I had an encounter with a feathered friend that we occasionally hear but do not see (it presumably lives in a house behind a tall fence). Usually our conversations, and by our, I mean those between the bird and himself, consist of a bunch of contented whistles and clicks. Today, as the bird was mindlessly amusing himself, Sarah whistled. “Hello?” was the reply. Notice I didn’t say, “Hello.” was the reply. The bird actually (and repeatedly, I might add) was asking if there was anyone out there; it was as if he heard a noise in the woods and was curious as to who was there and why they weren’t presenting themselves for a conversation. Hello? Hello? Hell-oooo?