Saturday, July 03, 2021 — (In 20 days, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)
It’s still here, that rescued infant Robin.
Yesterday I stood on a hill and three times tossed baby high into the air. Its wings flapped in the abundant space between toss- and landing-spots, but each try ended abruptly with a thud. The unhurt bird sat patiently until I lifted it.
Maybe it’s too young to fly, or something about the bird isn’t right. Well, it behaves normally, eats like a tiny horse, naps between feedings, and recognizes my voice. It patiently sits on my forearm to lounge in the garden, and comfortably rides an arm to barn or shop.
Over two days it has consumed two cartons of small mealworms, 10 each of giant mealworms, a few crickets, and as of this morning is finishing the last of three cartons of fishing worms. Today requires refreshing my live bait stockpiles.
A suggestion of turning weird is saving household bugs alive. I appreciate insects, they’re fun to observe and learn about. Usually I interrupt only the few genuine unwanteds. This is changing now as all air and ground insects are potential bird food, and I evaluate ease of catch-ability.
Daily going forward, I’ll toss this baby high into the air, several times, hoping it may fly independently. Until strong enough to sail on its own, it’ll remain in care.
Meanwhile, this a happy tyke that creates a little extra work and offers lots of fun.
Dear Friends: All living beings incredibly are connected, and living reminders of this simply delight. Diana