Chasing After Spring

When Don said there was a baby robin trying to learn how to fly down at the Three Hills camp ground, I said I would be right over. Nev - Don's great grandson - happened to be visiting me along with his grandma, so we all charged off together to see the baby.

The little bird was perched on the fire pit at the camp ground. When Nev approached it, it fluttered off, managing to stay a few inches above the ground until it reached the shelter of the neighbouring motor home.



Nev telling mama robin that
her baby was right here!






From there it stumbled and tumbled across the road and under another motor home. Now that it had crossed the road, its mother became a factor: she sat on a nearby branch, clearly chastising her little one who had been forced into this big, scary adventure through no wish of his own.

It staggered from behind the wheel of the motor home to an area of brush, Nev right on its tiny tail feathers. Finally it sat there, exhausted, looking straight up into the face of the little boy who only wanted to make friends with it. 

They gazed into each other's eyes for long moments. Then I quietly said that it was time for us to leave, time for the baby's mother to come and find it and take it home again and give it some food after its big road trip.

And Nev's grandma and I took him back to the TH, back for a little food of his own and a recap of the excitement of being so close to the baby bird that he was able actually to reach out one grubby little-boy finger and gently touch the tiny creature ("He was so soft, Karyn!") before withdrawing his hand and standing a respectful distance away.

As our little Nev starts making his way out of his own nest, may he always have a sense of adventure but know that there are a bunch of mamma and pappa birds keeping a watchful eye on him and loving him through it all.