on an unrestricted, self-led exploration of the many hundred year old grand palace i saw two victorian era ladies traversing the outer ledge of the third floor from my fourth floor vantage. after descending several spiral staircases, and traversing wide and well occupied games rooms resplendent with oversize billiards tables and several bar stations - demurring all offers of contest and potables - i found a finishing sporting match on the third floor veranda. attempting to enter while they exited proved impossible, so my difficulties persisted for some time. eventually, after finding myself in changing room closets, mistakenly riding dumbwaiters, and failing to hoist myself up over a wall overpopulated with silver trombones, euphoniums, and tubas i vaulted a three foot barrier. first door led to an arboretum and an enraged heron/flicker hybrid that squawked like a great blue heron mixed with the squelch button on an old CB radio. landed, wings out, tail and crest flared he kept eye on me vocalizing to keep my attention. i followed his eyeline through me to the other side of the room and saw his partner near a T-shaped wooden stand, but the cage/terrarium was missing its outer guard/oversize glass bell jar cover. crossing the room a French door partition opened easily to a hay-woven door with arched handle fully obscured by organic build up - feathers and quivers, tweets and light purrs escaped the region. i saw portions of the bluff songbird nesting in the door handle and was happy the door was partially ajar so i could merely push it further elsewhere. i walked on and a large cricket startled me and after flinching back, i laughed. it jumped into the beard of my cheek and skittered away all the while chrrrruping. i walked on, thankful i had not swallowed it.