An artist's life amid the trees in Colleyville
Ann Hardy strides across her green and shaded lawn to a birdhouse mounted on a tree trunk.
She partially pulls out a nest, empty except for one tiny, blue egg.
"Yes, they're gone. I knew they wouldn't be there much longer."
The Colleyville artist knows her birds. And her gardens, and even the fish that swim in the long pond that runs along her property. A fishing rod and net stand propped near the door, should she get the urge to wet a line.












