The Case of the Plopping Poop

I know. Not a very eloquent title is it? What can I say. It is what it is. It's about time we had another mystery around here. What with all this rain recently, my brain was beginning to rust. But to get to the point...what you see above is the source of the mystery. "What the hay is that?!", you ask. Well, that white splotch on the board, sort of to the lower right of the picture, is what has been appearing of late in very unlikely places. Such 'splotches' have occurred in the rafters, on the stanchion, on the mat, and various and sundry strange places well within the interior of the barn. The first time she saw one, the goatmother thought, 'This looks like bird droppings. How can this be? It is winter and there are no birds that would come in the barn. All of the swallows have gone south or wherever it is they go.' And then she dismissed it from her mind. Being predisposed to the unraveling of mysteries, not to mention quite talented in that regard, I continued to ponder the occurrences. That is until last night when the jig was up.

Last night while cleaning up and giving us our nightly ration of hay, something flitted past the goatmother's head. We noticed, but we didn't become alarmed. After all, there was food involved. What could possibly be more important than that? Besides we hadn't received any Peanuts yet. But the goatmother noticed and thought, 'Oh, no. That stupid bat has returned and is going to fall on my head again.' However this time it wasn't the bat.

What you see here is an old swallow nest that exists near the roof of the barn. It is, in fact, so old that if you look closely you can see it sports long strands of horse hair. The people who lived here before the goatmother and the goatfather had horses. That is how old the nest is. So when the mysterious 'flitting' occurred, the goatmother glanced up just in time to see something very small entering the bottom of this nest. As she watched, something then poked it's head out the top of the nest and looked at her.

This is what she saw looking down at her. I know, the picture is not the best and it is kind of blurry. But, what can I say, the goatmother is blonde. Blonde + technological devices doesn't always equal success. I guess you could say blondes are kind of the Nubians of the human world. But I digress...

Okay, the goatmother has sort of redeemed herself with the above photo. Sort of. In her defense, the subject was very quick. Anyway, the mysterious little poop depositor turned out to be a Winter Wren. This one is only about two and a half inches from stem to stern. Still, a mystery is a mystery no matter what size package it comes in. No matter. "Chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward." (Sherlock Holmes from The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle)