by Ashlyn McKayla Ohm Looking back now, I realize the birds were there long before I noticed them, fluttering about at the edges of my world. A couple of hardworking birdfeeders swung from the moss-furred limbs of the walnut outside our window, and I had casually noticed the birds that came. They were the usual suspects for our Arkansas neighborhood—chickadees and titmice and cardinals, the occasional scarlet splash of a woodpecker—but nothing that could steal my breath in wonder. And then...