Somedays I wish I were a bird...

What a wonderful baby daddy. Meet Hal, Shallow's man bird. He is steady, strong and caring. Every woman's dream.






Over the past few weeks, Kelly, Amaias and I have had the privilege of watching these birds live a life similar to you and I. And it was perfect. The perfect nest snuggled into the most desired location, a tree tucked in the far back corner out of sight and nestled in between a series of branches which held it firmly in place. Shallow sat for days on what I believed to be an egg or two. Very rarely did she leave the nest and when she did, Hal stood watch.

Saturday, after work, Kelly called me to the window and revealed the most amazing sight. Two beautiful baby birds had hatched that morning and their song they sang was wonderful.

 Meet Willow and Grace. Aren't they beauties?









Hal and Shallow both took turns all day long feeding the seemingly bottomless pits. One would stand watch while the other would dig up the worm. Team work. A single parental unit. They worked so well together and it was inspiring.

Today, they were wanting to fly. They were almost ready. Shallow had raised such independent children.

Yesterday, I wanted to be a bird. I wanted to soar on the breeze with my feathered friends and feel the wind beneath my wings pushing me up and pulling me down. I wanted to see what it was like in that nest with three birds. I wanted to hear the conversation between mother and father as they watched in awe over their young children. Yesterday would have been a perfect day.

Today, however, is not one of those days. Today I mourn. I mourn for my dear bird family. Man interfered with natures natural course. The perfect nest in the perfect tree now lays on the ground empty and cold. The tree that once sheltered this family is now gone and my window is quiet. And I mourn.

I went searching next door for my baby birds. We looked everywhere. Sadly, the contractor responsible informed me he had stepped on one and the other fled the scene.

With my baby in my arms, I watched as Hal returned to his missing home with a big fat worm hanging from his beak. He looked frantic. I cried. I did. I can't imagine returning home after a hard days work and finding my entire home and my children gone. Everything you have worked for.

I really don't understand why this hit me so hard. They are birds. I eat turkey in my sandwich almost every day. I mean realistically, I've probably eaten close to 10 whole turkeys in my life and I really could care less! But today. Today has been a rough one.

Tonight, I hold my baby a little tighter; a little longer; thankful that today I am not a bird.