I lost my children today. Two were on the ground right under our nest. One already dead...he was the only son we had this year. They are not as hardy as the egg-layer children, I believe. The other babe, an egg-layer, was found by the child of the twoleggedcreaturesthatdonotfly who live in the big nest beside our tree. It is a nice tree. Green all year long and dense with foliage. The cats across the street do not even know we are here.
There was a thunderous storm the night before. One with rain and powerful winds. The children were plucked from the nest, and there was nothing I could do. They were not ready to leave this nest. Their bodies were still naked and bare. Only a few wing feathers had emerged, and their tails were but a whisper of the beauty that was to come.
They had been hungry that evening, but I stayed close because of the impending storm. No opportunity to dig for food when the weather was coming up dangerous. I regret not feeding them so they could die with full tummies. Instead, they died wet and cold, scared and... hungry.
This child of the twolegswhodonotfly picked up my babe and caressed her gently in her wings. I think she is an egglayer child, tho I have never seen any of their eggs, only their children who play outdoors. She carried my little one to the twolegswhocannotfly who lives in the big nest nearby.
This cannotfly is my friend. She digs worms for me and tosses them toward me when she is out of her nest. She grows berries for me (editor note: I had no idea they thought I was growing berries for them!), and leaves out basins of water for me. She has even raised some of our children. She greets me whenever she sees me with the same song. It sounds a little like "Hello Robin," but I do not know what that means. I believe that she thinks my name is Robin, tho my name is Wormeaterwithredbreast. These cannotflys do not know very much, but this one seems very happy. And she is out of her nest much of the time, digging worms for me or pouring water on the berry plants. She sings, too. I like to hear cannotflys sing.
I do not know her name, but I call her Planter.
Planter told this young egglayer cannotfly how to care for my babe. She took her a box and some food and something to give her water. Water is important for babies. She told her to keep her warm and safe from the cats.
I do not know if this babe will live. But if she dies, she will not be cold and hungry and wet...and alone. I am thankful for that.
And it is Summer, still. The suntime is longer than the moontime. There will be time while it is still warm for another nest of eggs and another clutch to rear. I shall pray, as always, that I can raise these next babes to fly and eat and go their way to dig worms for themselves. This is what I can hope for.