A few weeks ago my dad showed me a dead lark in front of our house and said “What a poor bird! I think it was being chased by a bigger bird, and then he bumped into the window extremely hard because I saw feathers on the window.”
Right then I felt so sad for the bird I decided to make a grave for it. 2 days later a squirrel named Pesky (I named him Pesky because he always eats the bulbs I plant and he chews on our flower stems) tore some daffodils to eat but he didn't finish them and so me and my friend Cristina Improved the grave by adding the daffodils and some other things.
Now my dad says that the grave is the most beautiful place on our entire property, and people might destroy it if they find out about it and so we should keep it a secret between us.
It was hard to keep it a secret between us , but we’ve managed to do so until now.