Looking out of the kitchen window this morning I watched as the birds flew in for breakfast and realizaed that soon, very soon nests would be filling up with fluffy goodness... it reminded me of this post from about two years ago...
The look on my mothers face said it all - apparently keeping meal worms in the fridge did not seem as exciting to her as to my 7 year old, and just to prove exactly how exciting they were, E opened the box, took out a pinch and dropped them in the aquarium for the frogs.
The frogs remained painfully unexcited at the prospect of an early dinner, but eventually flicked a casual tongue in their general direction and they were gone. My mother was impressed, she said so, and then with hugs and kisses, home she went.
The next day, after an overnight drenching, the sun was out and the girls with it, but it wasn't long before they were both back inside with concern written on their faces. At sometime during the storm nature had dealt a cruel blow to a feathered family and a baby bird had been dislodged from its nest, needing to be rescued. We have actually been in this position so many times; and the results have always ended with such heartbreaking failure that the healthy lesson of life earned always seems so unkind, but this little foundling was different, it was just a little older than the average waif.
We watched from a distance all morning while its mother flew between her flock, feeding and fussing over them all in turn.
All afternoon our cat was cuddled and entertained inside in an attempt to divert his attention from an easy meal.
And during our supper the girls fretted over him being outside by himself all night. Countless plans to keep him company were hatched and denied.
They went to bed.
The next morning he was their first thought and little eyes cautiously scanned the garden anxious for what they might find. Curiosity was rewarded for there was mama bird feeding her little one, not only that, but she was giving him our meal worms from the bird feeder.
I think we all thought the same thought at the same time, only being the other side of 40 I dismissed it as soon as it drifted in. When you are 5 and 7 these ideas don't seem to be so fleeting and it doesn't occur to them to suppress them.
A meal worm was gently held by each of them as they tip-toed through the grass, wet dew clinging to the bottoms of their fairy pajamas. They stopped when they could see him, uncertain of what to do next.
Instinctively, E dropped to her knees and slowly shuffled along. The bird hoped once or twice, but amazingly was not alarmed by her presence. She held the wiggly worm between her little fingers, stretched out her arm and quietly offered it. Seconds passed, then a few more, and then in an amazing blink the baby bird took it. Just like that. Time stood still. There was a silence. We dared not breath for fear of breaking the spell.
The littlest of the little ones, M, reminded us in hushes tones that it was her turn, and reluctantly E came crawling back. At 5 you lack somewhat the confidence of a 7 year old, and although she was just as patient and careful as her older sister, the meal worms slipped through trembling fingers just at the crucial moment. It was, however, appreciatively gobbled up by its hungry receiver.
Over the next couple of days we watched as our little feathered friend grew strong from our meal worms. We did not try and feed it again; we appreciated the fleeting moment and cherished its memory. Then one day, he was gone, flown away with the rest of his family, and instead of being unhappy over his departure, my wonderful girls were delighted that out of all the baby birds we had tried to help, one had finally made it.
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