Then there was silence. Then I noticed Mom and Dad were no longer coming to the nest. They'd land on the bird feeder then fly across the yard to another tree(s). Oh dear, I worried. This can't be good. Something bad must have happened to the wee chirpers. Visions of lions chasing down a baby zebra for dinner flitted through my mind. Oh dear. Did the babies fall out of the nest? Were they dinner for some bigger creature? Oh dear.
So I went exploring. I stood under the tree where the nest sits empty and looked up. I looked til my eyes crossed. And then, I saw it. A baby bird, whose coloring perfectly matched the tree, stood stiff as a soldier at attention. Ah, I breathed a sigh of relief and a cry of surprise. At least one baby still survived. But how did it get so big so fast? It began to make sense that Mom and Dad were still on duty serving breakfast, lunch and dinner, just in a different diner. How those babies got across the yard is beyond my comprehension. I know cat mothers will pick up their babies by the neck and move them around. I just can't believe a bird can do that. So the only other possibility is they (Johnson has seen 2) must have flown. Unbelievable.
I'm reminded of that saying about jumping off the edge of a cliff and building your wings on the way down. I guess it's a trust thing, and baby birds don't have much of a choice. Maybe I should be more daring, trusting, ready to fly when it's time. You don't really know what you're capable of until you try, do you.
Wishing for you, guts and glory,