Posted on by leohblooms

Random

I’m kind of a health-nut eater. I like organic, all natural etc. etc. But for some reason, Cap’n Crunch Berries makes me swoon in ecstasy. The cereal is particularly crunchy and cuts the crap out of the roof of my mouth and it hurts for a few days. I know before I eat it that when I finish the bowl, within minutes, my mouth will hurt. And still I eat. I gave up meth, but don’t ask me to give up my Crunch Berries.

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While staying in and doing my best to indulge in my own independence by not participating in Independence Day, I watch about an hour of Janice Dickinson that I can never get back. She would like to hire you because you move her with your great ethnic looks. But she would not like to hire your nose, so you’ll need to get that done. Also, she has two words for you: ‘Out!’

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I watched the mama bird for weeks. She religiously stayed at the nest and every time I opened the sliding glass door to go in the yard, she flew out of the rafters right above my head to the tree at the edge of the fence. Sometimes she would call at me a little, not sure if I was a danger to her eggs or not, but making some noise to distract me all the same. She tried to be patient while I sat in the swing, having my nightly smoke, rocking back and forth, back and forth. I would try to soothe her while I soothed myself with the steady rhythm.

One evening, I heard small and insistent peeps coming from the nest. The mama bird flew to the fence as expected, but then came three feet in front of me on the ground, scolding. How large I must have looked to her; so threatening. And yet, she was unafraid and lectured me soundly.

A few weeks later, as I unwound in the swing, I noticed her absence. The familiar swoosh as I came out the door had been missing. In the dwindling light, I noticed two shapes on the cement slightly to the right. And there they were: her babies, still and quiet, legs stiff. I was startled. Then sad. Then outraged on their behalf. And then from the left, I saw the mama bird flying in, worm in her mouth. She walked to one and then the other, questioning them, asking them to wake up and take a bite. And then I saw the other bugs and worms around them in a cluster here and there. She had been at it for hours. There were ants coming in, marching from the crack in the cement, looking at the bugs, sure, because they were there, but more importantly, exploring the babies. I looked at their fully formed wings, their tiny beaks, and wondered allowed what had happened? She had been so diligent! So ferociously diligent!

We wrapped them in paper and set them in the rubbish bin, Joe helping out with the wrapping since I couldn’t bare it. And we kept our thoughts to ourselves. And I cried a little for the mama and her babies that would never fly.

23 Replies to “Random”

  1. I ued to be that swoonish over cocoa pebbles. Then I was diagnosed with type II diabetes and had to give them up for good. Life can be cruel. So sad about the baby birds and so sad for the mama.

  3. I’ve only had 2 hours of sleep in the past 36 hours…so this is probably stupid sounding….but I seriously am touched…and saddened.
    thank you for your randomness….

  6. How softly poetic your retelling of this story. Thanks for having a gentle heart and for being compassionate, even for little birds.

  7. So sad about the birds. I’m sorry.

    As for cereal…my addiction is Reese’s Puffs. I woke up at 2:00 a.m. today and just had to have a bowl before going back to sleep.

  11. You write so well. I was hit by a sudden and intense renewed sadness for the mama bird and her babies as I was drifiting off to sleep last night. It had been hours since I read this.

  13. Your baby bird story makes me sad. In all the crazy-business of life, it seems so easy to get numb to all the pain and anger in life … in those times it’s the little bird stories that prick us back into feeling.

  15. My fiancé and I rescued 2 baby robins a couple of weeks ago. They each fell from the tree above our driveway about 30 minutes apart during heavy rain. I chopped up worms (from Wal-Mart) and fed them diligently. The one who got really drenched didn’t make it. He lasted about 24 hours. =(

    However, I read up (on the blessed internet) that you should return the babies where you found them and make sure the Mama sees and she’ll continue to care for them. Well, after about 2 days Mama bird was making her presence known on our front porch where baby bird was housed. We turned him loose and she fed him for several days in the vicinity of our front yard until he learned how to fly. Now they flutter all over the place in front of my house.

    I just wanted to share that I know the sadness you feel after a small little being passes like that. Here’s hoping you have another set next spring that is thriving and healthy. Thanks for sharing your story Leah.

  16. Your writing is so good. The Animal Kingdom has the ability to break my heart very easily. Two years in a row the Wrenns nested their babies. The first year was horrible, and the 2nd year a little better than the last. Two of the three lived last year, I intend to make it a 100% survival rate next year (if I can).

  17. so sad…
    those wee little birds.

    but I have news!
    keep your cereal and rinse with Peroxil! it heals toast scrapes and panini palate – I’m sure it would work.

    still, a little sad about those birds.

  18. Did you read Barbara Kingsolvers, Prodigal Summer? A very similiar scene in her book…..you would love it.

    The mother in us all cries with the mama bird……

    take care….

  19. When I was a kid, someone told me that animals don’t mourn their young the way people do, but that person forgot that we are animals, too. Poor momma bird. Thanks for taking care of the babies.

  20. I used to LOVE Cap’n Crunch Berries! Until I was prego…ate like three bowls of it and then promptly threw it all up. They DO NOT taste good the second time around….

  21. How absolutely devastating. I really do wish we could know what happened to those innocent and fragile babies. Thank you for writing such a poetic account.

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