Who is on the plum tree?
A Little Bird Told me…
A while ago ago, I found a baby robin that had fallen from its nest. It hadn’t yet grown all its feathers, so was far from ready to fly and fulfill its bird purpose. Its mother perched on a nearby fence. She called constantly to her baby. I was worried both for the baby bird and for its mother. The cat might find the tiny bird in its vulnerable position on the ground lodged between two stones. It could not move forwards or backwards. It could not defend itself. I picked it up. At first, it squawked furiously demonstrating its marvellous spirit. The little bird wanted to live. It wanted to grow feathers and experience the joy of flight.
I cradled it in my hand. It felt the warmth of me and settled into a little bird’s sleep. I dug some worms and tickled its beak with the wriggling end of one. It squawked, causing its beak to open. I pushed the wriggling worm into its mouth. And the tiny bird swallowed the worm whole!
I debated whether to leave it to nature. But I had encountered it. I had become drawn into its fate. I cradled the bird for a couple of days keeping it warm and feeding it worms. Its mother was still calling. She had not abandoned her baby. I found a box and placed the bird in it. I positioned it up high, out of harm’s reach. The mother flew down instantly to feed her baby. She could do no other thing.
My little bird has flown now.
Sometimes life is like that. We are little birds in need of a worm or two!