Thursday, 26 July 2007

For the Birds, Part 1 - The Baby

It was sweltering hot today. I mean blistering. Thirty-two degrees. Gross. So, instead of going for my usual walk of the whole walking trail, which takes thirty minutes and would have been just asking for a heat stroke, I decided to walk back and forth along the first 100 metres or so of the trail that are actually in the shade.

There I was, walking along, when all of a sudden I hear "cheep!" You know, the very loud, very pitiful, high-pitched cheep of a baby bird? So I looked down, and there, not two feet away sits a baby robin on the grass beside the trail. Not a baby baby, it had nearly grown out of its fluffy feathers, but it didn't seem to be old enough to fly. I bent down to have a closer look at it to see if it was hurt. It didn't appear to be, so I assumed it must have been there because it was too young to fly.

I talked to it for a few minutes, wondering if it's mother had abandoned it or just left it there to wait for her. I hoped the mommy robin would come back, because I knew that my family just did not have time to take in a bird right now, and I couldn't think of anyone else I could pawn it off on.

After a moment, I walked on, and passed the bird twice more. The second time I came by, I stopped to talk to it again. I was starting to think that maybe I should go get my water bottle and try to drip a few drops in its mouth, if that would help. But the moment I stood up to go do it, the bird stood up and jumped away. It settled down about ten feet from where it was and sat down again. However, I was now convinced that it was alright, so I walked on. I looked back periodically, and saw that it hoped its way into a clump of bushes.

About five minutes later, an adult robin swooped down and landed in the same clump of bushes, and there was chirping all around.

This all reminded of some of my own experiences with birds and the memories of them that have stuck with me. My next couple of posts will tell those stories.

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