Although my backyard is it's usual bustling Spring self this season, one voice is very conspicuously missing. That is the incessant gurgling waterfall of chipper notes bouncing out of a 4 inch dynamo known as Big Al. Big Al was my resident house wren, who graciously appeared late in the afternoon of May 3, 2004. The date is emblazoned in my consciousness as it is the day my most beloved pet ever suddenly and unexpectedly passed away. As I stepped outside that evening for a cleansing breath, I was greeted by that delightful little man sitting atop my mountain ash tree. I named him Al after the character Al Borland on Home Improvement, as he was the quintessential home builder! Al built nests in no less than 8 houses every spring, and then again in summer, with his Lady du Jour choosing which she would grace with a family. Together they would raise their wee fuzzball bairns and while Mrs. Al would fledge them and show them the ropes, Big Al would be off on another house building tear! The beauty of Al was his inate friendliness. I would step into my garden everyday and loudly inquire where my Big Al was? If Al was three yards over, he would stop what he was doing, fly across lawns and over fences, perch on a twig within 20 feet of me, and sing, sing, sing! He KNEW his name. And he KNEW the one who bestowed it upon him. Al returned in early May, 2005 and raised 2 clutches of little Als. I became worried near autumn when my calls remained unanswered. Hoping he had just made an early migration ahead of the terrible hurricanes of last season, I refused to think the worst. But I am afraid I must face facts on this May 12, 2006. My Big Al never returned. This is the last house in which he erected a sturdy nest for 3 babes. The adjacent apple blossoms seem a fitting memorial for my dear, lost little joy. I will miss you, Al. I miss you already.