WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

It was a beautiful and coolish morning, perfect for a walk, but my trek had to be cut short by an errand.  That errand was a trip to the eye doctor to pick up my glasses that had arrived almost two weeks ago, but their Robocaller had a hiccup, so I never got the message.  Finally I called on my own.  Anyway, I wanted to be there when their office opened, so I decided to get my steps in at nearby Memorial Park.  I walked enough laps around that Park to rack up almost three miles, not so impressive, but at least I got some steps in before heading home to get the car and drive to the eye doctor.

On my way home, however, near the end of my street, what I initially thought was a crumpled-up leaf, turned out to be a baby robin with its head under its wing and fast asleep.  This little guy was so small, especially with its head buried in its feathers.  I guess he sensed my presence because suddenly its head popped out from under a wing and he looked up at me.

I sure didn’t want to scare this robin chick and didn’t see any adult robins around.  I decided to take this little guy’s picture for today’s post.  I took my camera out of the case slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements, but all the while talking softly to my little feathered friend.  In my most-soothing voice I said “sweetie, you really should have pulled over onto the grass to sleep because I might have stepped on you by accident!”

Well, he just looked up at me, a bewildered look on his face, and heart pounding a mile a minute.  I haven’t cropped this picture so you get an idea of his size.

It might have been a coolish morning, but my heart melted a little when he continued looking up at me.  I zoomed in on him, taking a shot from the top and the side.  He tolerated my presence but still no parents came to his rescue, or to check me out, and that was worrisome to me.  A quick glance at the two nearby trees told me there were no nests that he might have tumbled out of – so where did this little fella come from?

I put away the camera, still cooing at this bundle of fluff, with the tufts on its head and speckled breast moving with each heartbeat.  Sadly, there was nothing I could do for him, yet I felt helpless just leaving him there on the sidewalk, shaking like a leaf.  I decided that Mother Nature, and his Mama, hopefully close by, would take care of him, so I left, but with some trepidation.

I went home, got the car and went to the eye doctor’s office.  I got there early and went to stand at the door to be first when they opened.  Then, I saw the sign “new office hours” … they are now closed on Wednesdays.  Great, just great.  Well that’s a first and I admit I was rather irked and stomped back to the car.

I decided my sudden “found time” would give me a chance to go back to Memorial Park and walk a few more laps.  I made a point to drive past the house where I saw the chick and saw Mama robin standing next to her baby.  I felt better witnessing this scenario.  While Mama robin is not a cat who can pick up her wayward kitten by the back of its neck and transport it to a safer place, she was still standing guard by her little one.   I put the car away and went back up the street to check them both out.

Mama Robin was hopping on the driveway, close enough to ensure I was not going to harm her chick, who surprisingly had moved about 15 feet from his original spot.  Even though Mama robin was nearby, so technically he was no waif, he still looked very small and scared.  I wanted to pick him up and wrap my hands around his trembling body, but I dared not.  He was a fledgling who likely make a misstep and tumbled out of the nest, or had a problem flying and lost his confidence.  He’d have fared better had his wings been bigger and his tail completely formed; you can see how short and stubby it is.

I decided not to go walk at Memorial Park and instead turned around and headed back home, leaving him and Mama robin behind, tears misting my eyes, knowing I would not come back this way again.  Not today.  Not tomorrow.  No,  I would not want to see his lifeless body on the sidewalk as Mama may not be able to protect him from all predators.

Suddenly my trivial frustrations seemed silly … it took this little chick to see the light though.

I hope he makes it safely back to the nest or a tree, away from danger, because it is a cruel world out there sometimes.

… or perhaps I should say found me?

Aah, today was like a breath of fresh air after this stifling and sultry weather we’ve had for one solid week. It was a joy to walk again.  Just as predicted, last night we had a storm and torrential rain and it was that weather event that broke the heat.  Before the storm, we soared to 96 degrees and it was the seventh day in a row over 90 degrees with high humidity.  The meteorologists were chock full of weather stats and I’ll throw a few out as well:  in 2018, we’ve had thirteen days at 90 degrees or better, and usually we average only about eleven days the entire year.  Luckily, we’ll get a two-day reprieve with cool weather, than back to the 90s again on Monday.  Ugh!

Earlier this week, I found an old friend.  I’m always glancing around as I walk through the neighborhood, and not just to ensure I don’t trip over an uneven sidewalk or miss a car pulling out of a driveway, with the driver not mindful that I am happening along.

You might recall in the tail end of May I discovered the family of robins nesting in a homeowner’s gutter on Pagel Avenue.  The chicks were about ready to fledge.  They were so big, and the nest was so crowded, that when I walked by, they were standing on the edge of the nest waiting for Mama Robin to take them on flying lessons so they could get certified to leave their twiggy home.

The very next day when I walked past, the nest was empty and one of the chicks was sitting on the fence.  I am sure it was his first time flying solo, and I was his first human encounter.  He sat there for the longest time, a little wobbly and clinging to the chain-link fence.  I wrote about that sweet little guy with the feathery tuft on his head in this post I entitled “Empty Nesters”:  https://lindaschaubblog.net/2018/05/24/empty-nesters/

Every time I walk down Pagel Avenue, I look for my little pal, although I can’t say for sure I’d be able to pick him out in a crowd.

But … I think he knew me.

The other day, as I strolled down the last leg of Pagel Avenue, just before reaching River Drive where Council Point Park is located, I looked around, just as I always do, and saw a robin alighting on that same homeowner’s roof.  It landed with its back toward me and sat there.  I stopped and pulled the camera out of the case.

Then I waited.

A few seconds later that robin redbreast stole a backwards glance at me and I took its picture.

Then, did I just imagine there was a glimmer of recognition that I was the one who spoke softly to that baby bird as he timidly perched on the fence the first day he fledged?

He turned his body around and faced me, perhaps for a closer inspection?

Well, I inspected him too.  The spotted breast feathers are gone and his orangey-red chest and dark plumage stood out on that pale-colored rooftop.  I called up to him, and, while we were not going to have a conversation of course, next I saw him open his beak and a few notes came out.  And was that a smile?  Look at the picture up at the top of this post, then you tell me.

This robin obliged me and posed for these pictures, warbled a few notes, then flew away to find worms, grubs and other goodies that robins are fond of and I continued on my trek to the Park.