Tiny Bird, Huge Spirit!

   A couple of days ago, Mark and I were resting after a full day's work of debris cleanup.  As we get older, we find that this takes longer and longer to do and we require breaks more often.  We sat in the wicker chairs under the old oak tree while sipping on cold lemonade.  This seemed to be the perfect way to spend the afternoon!  While we relaxed, Mark called my attention to some tiny birds far up in the treetops.  They were busy little rascals!  I could see enough without the glasses to tell they were sort of olive green but not much more.  When he asked what type they were, I could only throw out a few options.  Perhaps a type of warbler or a pine siskin or maybe a kinglet.  The birds kept busy for the rest of our "sittin' time".

  Today, I strolled down to admire the work Son and I did on the debris pile.  As I meandered the cleared spot, a tiny bird came down to visit.  The bird busied itself just an arm's length from me so I had a pretty good view of details which helped me to identify it.  This 3 and 1/2 inch long bird was a Ruby-crowned Kinglet!  Aww, the sweet little bird's visit was the boost I needed today.  If this wee bird can be so cheerful after going through the hurricane without shelter, I surely can face whatever is thrown at me! 

  Sometimes, we have to find a sign that everything in our world is going to be put right once again.  I look to nature as I have trust in the critters to have far more commonsense than most people.  The tiny kinglet was my sign.  Its eagerness to live life to the fullest was inspiring.  I felt honored that the bird felt the need to visit.

Shelter For A Friend

   Working in the yard and taking hikes about the place gives me the opportunity to get to know a lot of the critters that live around here.  When you are mingling with them, it does not take long before they become "family".  This story began almost four years ago.  I was out weeding when I heard a major ruckus down near the marsh.  I knew of several nesting birds in the area so rushed to see if a snake was raiding one of them.  It was not the resident rat snake but a hawk.  The hawk had seen a brown thrasher on her nest and decided to take it as prey.  Gallantly, the male thrasher tried to defend his ladylove with the help of the "neighborhood watch" gang of jays and cardinals.  The hawk sat holding the female thrasher in his talons while the others literally divebombed it.  Once I neared, the hawk tried to take flight but lost its grip on the flailing bird.  She tumbled down into the palmettoes, badly injured but alive.  I was devastated that my sweet friend had met this tragic ordeal and thought that the nest would now sit abandoned.   I was wrong.  The nest did not sit abandoned.  Later that evening, I checked and was surprised to find the male thrasher on the eggs.  He was doing his best to save his brood.  My heart was breaking thinking that my sweet, little mama had perished.  

  Two days went by with the same thing.  Papa Thrasher was on the nest.  On the third day, I was surprised to see a bloodied but alive Mama Thrasher on the nest.  Her head was down but I could tell she was alive.  That, my friends, is dedication!  That is the epitome of the perfect mom.  Papa Thrasher was bringing her food and was standing watch at all times.  Thankfully, the hawk never reappeared and Mama Thrasher eventually hatched two of the five eggs.  She remained lame from the incident, however.  She had trouble flying and was weakened from the ordeal.  As far as I know, she never nested again.  I would see her now and again as she rustled around in the underbrush trying to find food.  In fact, she became quite tame.

  A couple of days ago, I was saddened to see the decline in her health once again.  She is a fighter, though, and will not give up easily.  She lingered near me as I was cleaning the greenhouse.  She stayed under the fig trees where there were a lot of bugs.  This morning I found her IN the greenhouse!  It appears that she may just decide to take up residence there now that the rats and coons have been evicted.  Thankfully, no chemicals were deployed so she will not be harmed.  As I was working, she sat perched on a basket of gourds.  She seemed comfortable but she does look old and tired.  With the coming of winter, I have no problem with the thrasher living in the greenhouse.  She obviously found the vents that allow her to come and go as she pleases.  A dish of water and some seeds or fruit will be placed there for her convenience if she decides to stay.  Welcome home, Sweet Friend.  With all you have endured, this is the least I can do for you.