After chopping down a tree/bush thing today, we found a bird’s nest and put it aside. We thought it was sweet. Then I went to rent a truck. I returned to find Amy crying. She had found four tiny baby birds on the grass — they had been cast from the nest to the ground when the tree came down. No bigger than thumbs, and half that length. Two were dead, the other two were begging with their tiny soft beaks for food. Pink skin and tiny tufts of hair. Amy cut up a worm and put it in the nest with them, but they didn’t eat it – they needed to be regurgitated to. Brand new to the world, and already their fate seemed sealed. We could only imagine what the mother bird would think when she returned to find not only the nest gone, but the whole tree. She probably went crazy with confusion and grief. Poor innocent things.
Music: The Clash :: The Sound of the Sinners