rik-rat corn pile

Thursday, June 23, 2011

poor baby.

I noticed a lot of bird chatter. Oriole bird chatter, to be exact. Frantic and concerned oriole chatter. I couldn't figure out why two adult birds were so upset with me...until I almost stepped on their reason. A tiny baby bird was sitting, scared, next to my big toe. I knew I couldn't do much for the baby bird but I could at least keep him from becoming a dog's breakfast or a mess on someone's shoe.
I put the lil' guy a tree and he scooted up the bark like an old pro. He was safe for the time being. Little baby oriole perched himself on a branch and began to sing at his parents. This went on for over three hours until he lost his balance and fell into the bushes. His parents, who were never far away, began to freak out...again.
We all know there's not much you can do for a baby bird, it's the circle of life. I picked him out of the bush, set him on a tree branch, and let nature take it's course. He sang to his parents for the rest of the afternoon.


  1. Poor little guy. That first picture kind of makes me laugh though. Maybe its the feathers sticking out all over the place.

  2. doesn't he look like a grumpy old man?! Tracy, I'm still thinking about your well written description of your wisdom tooth bone fragment...oh, man. Very well written.