When blue was my favorite color, I knew it was because of the bluebirds that crowded around my grandfather’s birdhouse. The tall figure almost seemed to stand over my garden, a warning to beasts of the ground. Birds of all kind flocked there, and my grandfather would spend days arranging nuts for them to eat. A buffet for birds is what he created, and they all seemed to thank him. The day he left, a bird of each color, every size, every shape, was arranged on his windowsill. Craving a variety only he could produce, I’ve got big shoes to fill.