About 11:00 am Sunday while sitting in our chairs waiting for the girls to show up, a goldfinch, being pursued by an unidentified raptor, hit the big doors on the west. It fell to the deck in a pile. We watched it for a while until Lorrie was convinced that it was dead. I went out and picked it up and discovered that it was alive but still not functional.
I moved it to the south side so that it could recover, if it could, in the sun.
The girls arrived around noon and noticed the bird. Before they came into the house they stopped and decided that he was still alive.
About 1:30 I decided that if he sat there much longer in the 20 degree weather he would freeze to death, so it was time for him to fly. As I approached him he got rather agitated and flew. His flight seemed to be a little erratic but still strong. All of the girls saw him fly and were pleased. What they didn't see was that he only made about 50' before the Kestrel that had been waiting all this time picked him neatly out of the air.
I suppose the hawk could see him but didn't feel secure about an attack on the porch.
Cool.
Dedicated to creative thinking, deep reporting, great writing and asking: What happened next?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Natural storyteller
Folks, I'm blessed with wonderful in-laws, and my father-in-law and I share a love of birds, animals and the natural world, so we often trade stories about what we've seen or experienced. He's not a writer by trade, but is a natural storyteller and a very good writer. Out of the blue today, he sends me this terrific little complication/resolution story (note -- 'the girls' are his other daughter and her kids):
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Poor thing! I wanted the little birdie to make it. I know, such a sap.
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