The massacre under the nest

Her:  “Did you see the dead birds?”   

Me:  “What?”

Her:  “Look over there”

There were 5 dead baby birds laying on the concrete.  One baby bird is left alive, but perched on a protrudance of vinyl above the apartment complex door.    It’s flapping its wings to test them.   I bet he could fly down to the ground, but he doesn’t seem sure.

The mother bird is a foot away, in her nest.   Not doing anything.   I want her to do something to save her baby bird, but she is just attending to whatever is left in her nest.

I put some disposable gloves on, rummage up a shoe box, and scooped the dead babies up from the pavement.  I stare at the live baby bird for 15 minutes, watching it test its wings, then just sit there on its perch.

Later, I went to get something from my car.    When I came back, the mother bird was on the perch with her baby.  I have a feeling they might be in for a long night, unless the flight training goes well.

I hope it does.

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