The Real Angry Birds

I don't have a fancy cell phone, so I don't play the "Angry Birds" game. But I am connected enough to the  more tech savvy world to know what it is.

Not that I need to know about a silly online game ... I've got the real thing on my early morning running route.

Red wing blackbirds. Yellow finches. Robins. Barn swallows. They're all out and about in the a.m., doing bird things. Flying. Swooping. Chirping.

And, apparently, protecting their nests.

For a good half-mile stretch today, I had birds squawking loudly and chasing me down the road. They flew 10 or so feet above my head, behind me, and herded me on down the line. I assume they were trying to keep me away from their adorable little babies, all wrinkly looking with beaks as big as their heads.

If they actually dive bomb MY head tomorrow, I'm going to be pissed.

Angry Birds have never met Angry Runner.