tenderness and fear

This was the drama in our backyard today -- a fledgling so awfully young to be out of the nest.  It fluttered around in the brush as its parents perched in the trees overhead.  They swooped in to bring it food, and maybe reassurance.  My instincts were that I should do something, but it's natural for many birds to leave the nest before they can fly.  The nest gets small and uncomfortable and instead, they live in the cover of the brush while parents hover near continuing to care and nurture them until they can fly.  Despite this, I  say "crazy little bird, why didn't you stay up in the trees, its such a dangerous place down here on the ground?"

I watched the bird and its parents for most of the morning and then left for work -- reluctantly.  Details aren't necessary but the outcome is predictable, and natural, but that doesn't mean it rests well with my sensibilities.  Sometimes life is very Wild Kingdom.


I can't stop myself from making the inevitable associations with the fitful balance of holding and letting go and the bittersweet task of nurturing life so that it can go out on its own and let nature have her way.  "Fledgling" has often come to my mind when I consider my child as he moves further out into this world.  It's big and we're small.  There is only so much you can do and the rest is just hope and prayer.