Today, a baby bluebird fell from his nest and landed at my feet. So much for picking raspberries for breakfast.
He wasn't quite ready to leave the nest. He still had on his baby down. He decided I was the cat’s pajamas. He's got his feet wrapped around my thumb as a security blanket. I was Mom for an hour while he snuggled in the curve of my neck—expecting me to feed him. Loud little bugger chirping in my ear.
He attempted a couple of rough flight attempts. Tough logistics. Smack! Into the side of the house. Ouch. He bounced like a ping-pong ball. And then he got stuck under an eave on the ground and turned into a feathered mouse. He couldn’t navigate the downed twigs. They were an insurmountable obstacle course. But his parents were so distraught, we had to do something. Besides, there were cats.
A ladder. A tall young man, young Will to the rescue, a solution—and the little beggar was sent packing back to his nest. Not that he wanted to go back inside once he had seen the wide world. But he needed to ripen a few more days along with his wiser siblings who knew a good thing when they saw it.
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| Any nest in a storm. |
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| Hand as nest. |
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| He still had his baby down. |
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| Ok, now feed me. |
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