Writing is an arduous journey.  It's not UNLIKE a baby sea turtle's journey to the ocean.  Well, actually theirs is a life-and-death situation, so it is arguably more important, but no less difficult.  When I watched a clutch of straggler babies be helped on their journey to the vast ocean a couple of years ago, it was a life-changing experience, and one of the most moving experiences I'd ever been a part of.  It was the most unifying moment where people came together, regardless of differences, and rallied for LIFE!  It was amazing!  

So, I did what kidlit people do -- I wrote a story about it -- a lovely picture book, which will probably never make it to anyone's shelf because everyone writes beautiful lyrical picture books about sea turtles and their journey to the ocean.  Well, SNAP!  Over time, though, I began to realize that their journey was analogous to our journey as writers, and I began referring to this analogy as I tried to encourage my kidlit family along the way. Recently, as part of the PBParty journey, I shared some of these observations with my ranking party and they asked me to share more widely, so I created a google slide show and a video, and I'm posting it here.  Why?  Because I believe our words have purpose and power.  Because MY words have purpose and power, I hope they will bring you encouragement when you're feeling "not-quite-enough" or way further from your goal than you want to be.  Because I believe YOUR words have purpose and power, too, and you need to share them. The world needs to hear them. 

The video goes into a bit more detail about the sea turtles and the analogy.  If you have time to watch, I think you'll find it interesting.  If you'd rather view the slideshow, here's the link:  ​https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Pmk3bgoBYPkrbn-h4EQaTwbiy_sbWqof/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=104587931882604493613&rtpof=true&sd=true

This business is so wonky!  It's hard and full of ups and downs!  Just in the way of example, a couple months ago I was riding high.  I got my first heart in PBPitch, had gotten ALL of my pieces accepted for Ignite the Spark and then I won the Mighty KidLit mentorship and I had won a giveaway.  I felt like I was on a roll. I should have bought a lottery ticket in that moment. LOL  Then came all the contest results:  KidLit Choice (I was a finalist last year; didn't even place this year.) Valentiny (No Love at all), 50 Precious Words (which I have been a winner or honorable mention every time I've entered) Not even an honorable mention this year.  PBParty for the third (or is it fourth) time -- not in the finals (even after the mentorship helping me to hone my entry) All of that riding high had gotten my hopes way up for ALL those things, and they were all duds for me. But in the midst of all those losses, this amazing opportunity was working itself out.  I started not to enter PBPitch.  I had posted that same pitch so many times before and had never gotten so much as a nibble.  What was the point after all?!?  But, Hello . . . .a heart. . . an offer. . . .an agent; all from an opportunity I started not to take.

It's a twisty path, friends.  One writer friend in the PBParty ranking group had an agent and probably thought her future was steady and beautiful, but she ended up parting ways and is back in the query trenches.  Today I have an agent and a potential book sale (it's not official or announced). There are no guarantees. Tomorrow or next week or next month I could be singing a different song. I have a dear CP who had an agent and we were so excited for her.  Her agent had health issues and had to step away from agenting. There was no one to pick her up and now she's back in the query trenches.


Here are some principles I've found to be true:

1. It's hard not to be jealous and envious when others (even friends) have success that you want and are working so hard for.  What I found was the more I cheered others on, the more I genuinely felt sheer joy over their success.  And you can feel both at the same time -- joy for them and sadness for you.  Those feelings CAN coexist.  But, the more I was genuinely excited for others, and looking for friends' names on the winning lists, the less sting I felt of my own. It may not work that way for everyone, but it definitely worked for me. It took some time, though.  I didn't get to that place overnight.  If you struggle with comparison, you might find this helpful.

2.  You lose 100% of the chances you don't take.  Sometimes when I get those really hard rejections/passes, I take a small break. Eat some chocolate, drink some wine, have some ice cream (Can you tell I'm an emotional eater?? LOL).Maybe take a walk, take a weekend . . . But don't quit.  Take a little break if needed, but get back on the horse -- and don't wait too long until it feels comfortable not to put yourself out there. Take the chances!  Enter the contests, the pitch parties, send off the queries and the magazine pieces! You never know when your YES is right around that corner, hiding behind that doubt!

3.  Find your why.  If you write for the accolades, then probably best to stop now.  It's risky and not everything will get accolades.  If you write to get published, that's unpredictable.  Crowds are fickle.  If you write because you must, if you write because it's like breathing, if you write because it's how you process and heal and express, then do that.  Learn about craft, find your niche, figure out who you are as an author, and then do that with all your might, all your heart.  Never forget your why.  Why do you write? Write it, frame it, make it your screensaver on your computer.  Meditate on it every day.  For me, I'm a woman of faith, so I have a life verse, "May my words and my thoughts be pleasing to you, Oh Lord, my rock and my redeemer."  It guides what I write -- not only my stories, but my Twitter, and everything I say and do.  It's my why.  Basically, I want my words (written and spoken) to make the world a better place.  Can I do that without being published?  Yes, and I hope I have been for the 4 years that I've been busting  it on this journey (and for all the ones before that when I didn't know as much about writing.)  And, if for some reason publishing doesn't work out, I hope I'll continue doing that.  It's different for all of us, but find your motivation, find your why, and then do it.  Dolly Parton said it this way, "Figure out who you are and then do it on purpose."

None of that fully takes away the sting, but you are a talented writer!  Don't let these phases get you down.  This business is incredibly subjective, but also, Know that all the passes/rejections/not-yets are preparing us, thickening our skin, building our immunity so we can handle the subjectivity that will get hurled at us when we ARE published.  

Stacy McAnulty has been super-successful but she got a terrible review from Kirkus for her latest book about Pluto.  Does that make her less of a writer?  Nope.  She's having to shake that off and keep moving forward. We'll never get to a place when there's not critiques, nay-sayers, negative people, folks who simply don't like us or don't like our writing.  Shake it off!  

I'm now represented by super-agent Joyce Sweeney, and on The Seymour Agency website, under pre-published authors (for now ;-))

​https://theseymouragency.com/pre-published-authors


​

Writing contests have been a huge part of my writing journey since 2020 when I became part of the kidlit family on Twitter.  They're so fabulous for so many reasons.  Now that I'm (eek! :-D) an agented author with some exciting things in the works, I'm navigating which contests are applicable in this new stage.  Every stage of the process is different, and I'm excited to navigate this very new and super-exciting stage! 

SpringFling KidLit was the very first contest that I entered after joining the kidlit community. The contest is sponsored by Ciara O'Neal and Kaitlyn Sanchez.  You can find out more about the contest here.  The gist of the contest is that it must be inspired by a GIF, be written for kids, and be 150 words or less. (Mine clocks in at 147 words.)

​This year, the inspiration for this year's story literally came from my own back yard. The painted bunting is like a flying rainbow -- so beautiful! Seeing one of these birds was on my bucket list for a while.  Then 3 years ago, as I was washing dishes in my kitchen, a rainbow blur visited my backyard bird feeder.  I was ecstatic to realize it was a painted bunting.-- my first sighting -- and in my own back yard!  Their range is limited, so it was a real treat.  My little multi-colored friend has continued to visit for a few months out of each year.  This year for Valentine's Day/birthday, my (very sweet) husband got me a bird feeder that takes pictures of our feathered visitors. We were very excited to catch these photos of Rainbow.  He is the inspiration for this year's Spring Fling KidLit writing.  I hope you enjoy my informational fiction piece about Rainbow the painted bunting.

These two pics were taken from our feeder bird cam in February of this year!  Isn't he a handsome fella?  The GIF below is not my creation. The original link is included at the end of my story. Painted buntings are only typically found down South -- Carolinas westward to Texas and into South America.  Brown-headed cowbirds do parasitize the nests of Painted Buntings, and many of the areas the buntings inhabit are also home to alligators. They are drawn to water features, and eat seeds, but also eat insects, especially when they are feeding their young. They are beautiful and fascinating birds!

Rainbow, the painted bunting, had migrated far and he was tired, hot, and thirsty. He needed a beverage, a breather, and a bath.  

First, he tried a puddle, but there was a plethora of brown-headed cowbirds and no room for Rainbow.

He tried a pool, but it was full of kids – and noise!
He flew over the river.  It looked refreshing, but dark and dangerous – and full of alligators!

Then, Rainbow flew over a lovely yard full of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet flowers! It was as colorful as he.  In the middle of the flowers was a small statue –full of water and empty of everything else!

Rainbow cautiously fluttered to a rest in the birdbath. He ducked, dipped, and dove through the cool refreshing water. It splished, splashed, and splattered. When the rainbow formed in the droplets, Rainbow knew he was home!

​GIF link

​

It's another contest -- one of my faves!  Partly because it's run by my friend, Vivian!  Partly because it is such a challenge fitting a full story arc in 50 precious words!  Talk about making every word count.  For a loquacious, verbal processor like me, the challenge is even more challenging, but I do love  to rise to the occasion, so below, check out my entry for this year. Our stories have to have a full story arc, be 50 words or less and appropriate for kids 12 and under.  You can check out the guidelines or enter for yourself here: https://viviankirkfield.com/

One of my favorite things as a child was going barefoot.  Whether it was outside in the grass, the garden or the mud or early morning padding through the house or wrinkly prune toes in the bathtub and then snuggled up under the covers, being barefoot was a huge part of life.  Now that I'm "all grown up", I don't go barefoot nearly as much as I should.  They say it's good for you -- grounding you to Mother Earth, healing for body and soul.  It's a gorgeous day.  Maybe I'll kick my shoes off and gaze at some clouds.  Maybe you should too. . . 

'Tis the season -- for love and romance and valentines. Speaking of valentines, I was neck deep in writerly tasks on Saturday when I ran across a post on Facebook that piqued my interest and sent me down a rose petal strewn rabbit hole.  What I discovered was a story with heart that deserved to be shared -- the story of the post office of Valentines, VA.  What follows is based on the true story of Kathy and Mr. Willie and the Valentines post office -- with a few details filled in.  So I hope you enjoy my informational fiction/historical fiction account of one of the sweetest stories around.  I hope it reminds us all, as adults, to take time to inspire curiosity in children around us.  For children, I hope it encourages them to keep dreaming and cultivating hobbies. You never know which one might change your life! For all of us, I hope it encourages kindness and sharing love in special ways.

This story was written for Valentiny -- a fun Valentine-themed writing contest hosted by Susanna Leonard Hill. 
The gist is:  

• Must be valentine-themed
• Must tell a story with beginning, middle, and end
• Must include someone feeling skeptical as a key part of the story
• Cannot be more than 214 words

You can find out more about the contest here: 

I hope my story earns your heart-shaped stamp of approval.  Let me know in the comments!

When Kathy was a young girl, she loved stamps and collected them. 
She adored the post office, and visited the one in town, but the clerks didn’t have time.  So busy!  
She tried to talk to the postmaster, but he grumped and harrumphed away! 
When she tried to talk to the mailman, he honked his horn and kept driving!  
She thought postal people were wonderful, but now she wasn’t so sure.  Kathy was very skeptical.  

Then she heard about the post office in Valentines, Virginia.  Maybe the postal workers there were nice!  It was named Valentines after all! She tested her skepticism with a field trip.

When she visited on a busy Valentine’s Day, the postmaster, Mr. Willie, took time to show her the stamps and the very special cachet he had designed with hearts and flowers. It said, “Valentines VA 23887.” Every envelope coming through the post office in February got his special stamp.  He let Kathy help and shared some stamps with her.

Years later, Mr. Willie was old and sick. He was skeptical about who would run his post office, but he didn’t need to worry.  Kathy had grown up to love the post office, and she became the new postmaster of Valentines with Mr. Willie’s stamp of approval.

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Susanna Leonard Hill graces us with so many fun writing contests, and it's time for the holiday one!  This year, she challenged us to focus on the villains, which was a fun holiday twist!  I wondered what would happen if Rudolph let the fame and glory go to his head and turn him into a villain (temporarily, at least).  I hope you enjoy my imaginings. . .  Rudolph has always been one of my favorite Christmas characters, since I often feel a bit like I belong on the island of misfit toys . . . but we all must be careful not to let our gifts go to our head! Our stories had to carry the load of a beginning, middle, and end, have a villain, a holiday focus and slide in under the 250-word limit.  You can check out all the entries at her website here:  ​https://susannahill.com/2022/12/09/ho-ho-ho-the-12th-annual-holiday-writing-contest-is-here/

,I've always loved Halloween. For me it's a fun time for all of us to face our fears and laugh at them a bit.  The dramatist in me LOVES dressing in costume.  I'm all about a theme, and I think MOST of what we celebrate at Halloween is fantasy-fun. However, I'm quite a wimp when it comes to scary -- I have an overactive imagination and don't need any help scaring up frightening images. LOL.  I'm not a fan of super-scary Halloween; I don't watch horror movies, and I don't do haunted mazes or haunted trails or houses, although some of my fall/Halloween writings do dip into the macabre, YA, haunting, suspenseful brand of literature. For this contest, I stuck with my more typical picture book style, and chose simple and sweet.  I hope you enjoy it!

Halloweensie is an annual writing contest for kidlit.  
THE CONTEST: write a 100 word Halloween story appropriate for children (children here defined as 12 and under) (title not included in word count) using the words slither, treat, and scare. I'm posting it here, but also on Susanna Leonard Hill's site, where the contest is hosted each year. This is her 12th annual Halloweensie contest, and this is my third time entering. You can find out more about the contest here: https://susannahill.com/2022/10/29/the-12th-annual-halloweensie-writing-contest-aahhhrrrooooooooo/

Twitter has connections to all sorts of writing contests -- each with their own little twist. Fall Writing Frenzy is one of my favorites.  There's something about this spooky time of year that entices me into the young adult space within the kidlit kingdom. Usually, I write sweet, educational, and sometimes funny picture books, but each Fall, I feel compelled to write something a bit. . . darker.  I also love that this particular contest uses images to inspire us.  Visual prompts are some of my favorites.    When you see this beautiful wooded path in the Fall, what do you imagine?

Well, here's what I imagined:

Scarlett and the Flute

The path through the woods 
stretched before her, 
littered with leaf confetti 
in a thousand shades of autumn. 
Biscuits and apple butter
Hid under the red gingham cloth
Covering the basket.
 
Scarlett skipped, then slowed. 
She craned her head to hear . . .
a flute? 

A shadow danced ahead. 
Then, disappeared. 
What was that? 

Music again.  
Chilling, haunting music.
It was calling her.
Stay on the path.
Grandmother’s House is not much further.

The flute beckoned.
She turned.
Grandmother is waiting.

She stepped off the path, 
Unable to resist
The flute.

Compelling, drawing . . .
Eerie trills beckoning . . . .
Soon, she was in the thick of the woods,
With only the flute to guide her.
Her name floated on the breeze
With the melody.
She followed the music,
Step.
By.
Step. . .
Note.
By.
Note. . .



I must follow.
No. . . .Grandmother . . 

The flute. . . 

A clearing.

A wolf, playing. . .

A flute.

She dropped the basket.

Goodbye, Scarlett

​

Photo credit: NBC News

This is my entry for SunWriteFun!  This contest requires a nonfiction or informational fiction story based on a theme of discover, exploration, or adventure.  Word limit is 200.  It's also posted on the contest website here.  I discovered this story last year and wrote it hoping to enter it in 50 Precious Words, but it was too complex to make it clear in 50, so I set it aside, and rewrote it a bit.  After more revision and help from CPs, this seemed like the perfect fit.  It was a fascinating discovery for me and I'm thrilled to share another of nature's mysterious and amazing cycles.  

Photo credit: https://thekidshouldseethis.com/post/turtle-tears-butterflies

Photo credit: ​https://www.brut.media/us/nature/what-are-these-butterflies-doing-to-this-turtle--2e40a142-0bb1-4c0a-bb83-4ea101f41b47 

This post is personal -- and faith-molded, so consider yourself forewarned ;-).  This is an interesting time of year for me.  Yes, it's the beginning of school and that always brings reflection.  What has worked well?  What do I wish to change?  What new strategies/activities will I implement?  What will I keep?  As a teacher, August is a heavily reflective month.

It's also the time when Facebook Memories assail.  I find this feature on FB to be bittersweet -- photos when I was much thinner, special memories along the way, things I'd rather forget, yummy food, "why did I post that?" questions. . . .But August is pretty tough where FB memories are concerned, like yesterday:

For those of you who may not know me that well, I don't have any children -- not here with me on Earth.  I have 4 very teeny tiny babies, who, I find comfort in believing are waiting on me in Heaven. (And just as an aside, for those of you who believe life doesn't start at conception, I would urge you just to consider that some of us take great comfort in believing differently -- and while I'm not asking you to change your opinion, I would humbly ask that you be sensitive to the fact that some of us have really good reasons to believe differently. . . .)

Summer, eleven years ago, I was pregnant -- for the first time.  It was a very hard-won miracle.  It was more than I can even put into words. The hope, the dreams, the fulfillment of so much, but what should have been the beginning soon became an ending.  The hopes dashed, the dreams shattered. Beginnings, stomped into the oblivion of NOT.  When I awoke from surgery, it was to a kind nurse wiping away the tears I cried even through the anesthesia.  I was only 8 and a half weeks along, but the devastation of losing our little sweet pea was larger than life.  When I say it was hard, that is such an understatement that doesn't even hint at the life-changing grief, enhanced by well-meaning people who had well-meaning things to say that instead cut to the quick of my very soul.  I was 44 years old, with not much time left to play the mom card, so we began trying again pretty quickly, which resulted in another pregnancy, and ended in another surgery and no baby in my arms.  February -- right between Valentine's Day and my birthday.  I felt like there was absolutely nothing to celebrate.  The window was closing with every birthday, and we had tasted hope, so we were determined.  August (just one year later) brought a third pregnancy --twins -- and ended in a third surgery, and an empty house. Putting all of this into a paragraph doesn't minimize the grief.  I can call it back in a second and feel every feeling.  I have forgotten so many of the details, but I will never forget the feelings.

I will not lie and tell you that I did not question God during this time.  He and I had many, many hard discussions.  I melted at His feet in anguish and yelled at Him in anger.  I had so many questions.  I had so. much. anger. Nothing about this felt fair.  And, it wasn't.  It still isn't.  Not fair that infants are abandoned, abused, and taken for granted. Not fair that we have a big house with plenty of room for children that sits empty when so many have no home to call their own -- living on the streets or without food and water.

This is where some of my friends will say, "Oh, you should have adopted!"  And where I tell you, "We tried."  Money was super tight and we had not always managed it well.  Our house is old and would not meet the codes that they use to determine if you will be good parents by whether your electricity is up to code and your house is insured . . . .who checks all the millions of homes that children are BORN into?  And yet, I understand the guidelines are there to keep children safe.  Adoption was not an option for us.  We didn't get very far in the process before we realized it was a moot point.  

Grief and anger and hopelessness became my best friends.  I put on happy faces, but I was drowning in sorrow. I struggled with why God didn't answer OUR prayers.  We served Him, believed Him, worshiped Him. I struggled with so much, but He never turned his back on me.  He held me when my husband wasn't home because he was working on his doctorate.  He caught every tear -- and there were so many.  He didn't hurl my questions back at me. He just let me yell and cry and feel the feels.  He quietly woke me up every morning and nudged me to put my feet on the floor when I didn't want to, didn't feel like it. He provided a family that loved me (but didn't know how to talk to me about this), a husband who loved me (but was totally wrapped up in his own requirements and didn't fully grieve until much later.) He had placed me in an amazing church family who held my hands and brought me apple pies and milkshakes and starry glasses and gifts for my birthday when I absolutely didn't feel like celebrating.

I know some of my friends who don't choose Faith will blame God, but God was my constant source during that time. I choose faith. I believe with all my heart He is God, creator and sustainer.  He is all powerful and could have miraculously given us a different ending, but He is also all-knowing, and for reasons He understands (and I still don't) He chose not to intervene to change our destiny.  He did not withhold anything from me, nor take anything away.  I believe we live in an imperfect world, made more imperfect by how we live and what we do.   That imperfection is what kept me from being a mom.  My body often fights against what I want.  That's not God. That's genetics.  My age meant that my eggs were losing their viability.  That's not God.  That's time.  God didn't push a button and "take" my babies from me.  He simply let nature take it's natural course.  Genetics, hormones, time, age. . . What He did do is help me keep putting one foot in front of another.  He gave me everything I needed to walk back into joy and fulfillment -- without babies.

Are there still moments of grief and sorrow?  You betcha!  In the last 11 years, we have lost not only 3 pregnancies/4 babies, but also Shane's grandmother, his dad, my mom, some friends, a bunch of aunts and uncles, a few cousins, and 2 churches.   Every loss teaches me something about myself.  Sometimes it is something I need to fix, but often it is simply something I need to understand. It has been a long season of loss, but also a long season of learning to be grateful and realizing how blessed we are.

How blessed are we?  We have a quirky, old home that we love.  We have each other -- celebrated 33 years of friendship and marriage in July.  We have family that we love and that love us.  We have careers that we enjoy and are good at that bring us much joy.  We have had, and continue to cultivate amazing friendships and spiritual relationships.  We have a strong faith that we draw from in hard times. We have everything we need and more. 

The bottom line is this:  Some days are hard, and some are harder than hard.  Some memories are blessings, and some are tough to relive.  But every hard day -- every rejection, every loss has made me stronger and more ready for whatever else was to come. If you allow it, the hard times may break you a bit, but God can fix the brokenness and make you whole again.  And the moments that break you also give you opportunities to love people, understand them, and care for them. ​I'm so thankful that God loves me and continues walking with me  and allows me to continue walking with Him.  And I believe with all my heart that all the tears, all the hardship, and all the loss will fade away on the day when I meet Him face-face, with my mom walking by His side, and I get to meet my babies for the first time. It won't be sadness that I feel. It will be joy and it will be gratitude, so I'm trying to practice for that day.

Spring has sprung, and so has another kidlit contest!  SpringFlingKidLit was the first contest I entered in the Twitter kidlit world 2 years ago, and I didn't place, but I made some great friends and was ushered into the amazing world of Twitter kidlit.  I've not once looked back!  I continue making great friends.  @Kaitlyn Sanchez was one of the first ones to welcome me as part of this contest, followed by @Kailei Pew.  Now, I have well over 3,000 followers - -many of whom I also count as friends.  Two years ago I did not have a critique group nor a critique partner.  I was just sort of almost beginning to grasp what writing a picture book looked like.  Now I have several critique groups and critique partners and I consider them an invaluable resource in my writing life.  Two years later, I have placed in several contests as a winner, finalist, or an honorable mention.  The changes are apparent, helpful, and good, and it all started with a leap on Leap Day of 2020!

Two years and many contests later, we're back to SpringFling Kidlit.  150 words. Inspired by a GIF.  Geared towards kids. etc.  Interestingly, last weekend was busy (THAT's nothing unusual). It was my nephew's birthday weekend and he'd had a sleepover at a nearby Christian camp lodge.  We had hauled stuff, worked a full day , slept on camp mattresses, stayed up late chatting, and had lots of fun.  We were also very tired.  So, hubby and I took a nap.  My sister was supposed to come pick up some things, and was supposed to text before she came.  In the middle of our nap, I was awakened by a "knock knock, knock knock".  Shane awoke, too, and said, "Is someone at the door?"
 Yes!  
He got up to check. . . .
No!  
No one was at the door.  He checked the turtle's aquarium.  That wasn't it either.  As he continued to investigate, he discovered a woodpecker pecking on the eaves of our house.  "Stupid woodpecker!" he said and he went back to sleep.  The knocking mystery had awakened me too far to go back to sleep, so I got up, planning to write the story that was formulating in my head.  Then, I realized -- this would be the perfect spring fling kidlit story!  A mom of one of my nephew's friends had told the story of her youngest child who was wanting to do a knock knock joke, but none of his siblings would listen to him, so he finally let out a big sigh, shrugged, and said, "Wrong door. . ." From those two bits, this story was born.  When I was searching for a GIF to use, this one popped up and the rest of the story came together.  I hope you enjoy my version of KNOCK, KNOCK!

Knock, knock!
Knock, knock!
Woodpecker taps a door in Spring.
“Whoo’s there?”
Owl opens both eyes wide.
WRONG DOOR.
Woodpecker flies away.

Knock, knock!
Knock, knock!
Woodpecker taps a door in Spring.
“Who’s there?”
Squirrel skitters and chatters,
Acorns and peanuts scatter 
WRONG DOOR!
Woodpecker flies away.

Knock, knock!
Knock, knock!
Woodpecker taps a door in Spring.
“Who’s there?”
A man looks out the window
With a scowl and a growl,
‘WRONG DOOR!”
Woodpecker flies away.

Knock, knock!
Knock, knock!
Woodpecker taps a door in Spring.
“Who’s there?”
Snake lurches out,
Fangs exposed,
“WRONG DOOR!”
Woodpecker ZOOMS away!

Knock, knock!
Knock, knock!
Woodpecker taps a door in Spring.
“Who’s there?”
A girl woodpecker comes out to dance.
RIGHT DOOR!
They tango up and down their tree
And build a nest to lay their eggs.
Woodpecker is finally home!

​