If we could be like this tiny bird, just living from day to day, holding no bitterness in our hearts for those we meet on our way. – Gertrude Tolley Buckingham, poet (1880-1971)
Birds, like mammals, have personality as well as individuality, which is to say that a bird has a mind of its own… – R.D. Lawrence, Canadian naturalist & wildlife author (1921-2003)
The morning would start with a cup of coffee, maybe two delivered if it wasn’t a fishing day. That day was fisherman’s day. Coffee was ready with the push of a button. Starting toward the breakfast nook I heard sounds of crying. Wilhelmina was outside though it didn’t sound like a cat. I stepped outside and there she was sitting on a mat with her back to the door. She was looking straight ahead and cried softly. I walked over to see what was wrong. She made no move. Three feet in front of her was a baby bird lying on the porch floor, a nestling with thin skin and a beating heart. There were no feathers. Just above us on the porch post was the American goldfinch nest inside a globe, the globe they nest in yearly. The nestling must have fallen. I reached down, picked up the baby bird and returned it to the nest, below the baby bird were four eggs. I had no idea if this was the right thing to do. I grabbed my phone and googled articles on Cornell Lab of Ornithology. The post said, “Put the bird back into the nest.” The baby bird’s heart was beating strong and so was mine. Wilhelmina still sat quietly and showed little interest.
The article said “If the bird is a fledgling, leave it alone. Their parents are likely nearby and will continue to care for them as they learn to fly. If the bird is a nestling with no feathers, return it to the nest without causing any harm.” Shortly Sam arrived home. I walked him to the nest and shared the happening. He took a peek at the nestling and the goldfinch eggs. The nestling’s heart was no longer beating. It was sad, and I wondered if the goldfinch parents would even return to care for their eggs.
Sam looked closer, took a screenshot, and saw the nestling was larger than a baby goldfinch, the baby goldfinches were still in their eggs. The nestling was a baby cowbird; momma cowbirds are known for dropping their eggs into another bird’s nest. We had a sweet burial for the baby cowbird. I still wondered if the parent goldfinches would return. For two days we watched and saw no momma and daddy goldfinches. On the second day Sam did another screenshot over the nest. The baby goldfinches had hatched and were being fed by their parents. Last year we got to see the fledglings fly away; we’re hoping we may see this brood fly away as well. Welcome back next year.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].
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