BIRD WATCHING

Every Spring about this time, storms rumble through, swinging the trees from side to side, the branches touching the ground, springing back upward! Wild, fabulous, screaming storms that turn the greens greener, the grass thicker, the flowers more colorful.  After it first roars through, the Spring Storm, the grass will be flattened, bowing to the earth, and when the sun pops out, heating the land, the ends of the prairie grasses and weeds look up, fling their sweet tendril arms skyward, and worship the Mother. 

But those winds, the pouring rains, cause some damage.  Bird nests are flung from the branches, and young, soft, unprotected babies are suddenly alone in an alien world, their mothers screaming to ward off dangers, to protect their babies too soon out of their nests.  And when those babies fall into my yard, I am elected the overseer, the nanny, the surrogate mother.

Sometimes I am able to hide the babies, protect them without disturbing that mother-baby bond, chasing cats away, herding my dogs to the other side of the yard, keeping them safe until they can take flight.  Sometimes the burden to protect them is too much, and I go to them, scoop them up, hide them away, sure that mama sees where we go. 

And now, I am raising the curtain and introducing my latest charge, the first of the Spring 2010, one of what will turn out to be several from the graduating class of Aves 2010.