Steve's checking me out

So there he is, pretty little Steve.

"Steve" because My Beloved thought it was funny, in case you wanted to know. And "Lady" because when I later asked My Beloved what Steve's lady should be called, he was really busy at work and not all that interested in naming the backyard tenants.

So "Lady" it is.

Which is kinda funny, because of course now we can serenade her with "Lay, Lady, Lay" when she's finished with the nest-building and ready to start working on filling it up.

'Cause you know, we're not already scary enough to some of the breeding-abled neighbours around us. Might as well seal the deal with a little Bob Dylan in the backyard.

Edited to add that My Beloved has just informed me that if there's any avian serenading to be done, he'll wait inside. So I guess it's me, Bob Dylan and the birds. The Swallows, that is. Although it would be pretty cool to get The Byrds to join me in a little 1960s revival concert...