~This morning something awful happened. A hawk came and attacked a robin’s nest right on my porch. Knocked the whole thing down. I opened the door and saw three tiny baby birds on the cold wood. Two were moving. One wasn’t. I just froze.
The parents were up in the trees, fluttering like mad, making that helpless, frantic sound. I wanted to help, I really did, but I was scared. Scared the hawk might come back. Scared I’d do it wrong. And mostly just afraid that if I touched anything, it would mean the end for all of them.
I stood there for a minute, clutching my mug and whispering, “What do I do? What do I do?”
My husband told me to breathe. So I grabbed a pair of gloves and gently, one by one, lifted the babies and placed them back into the nest. They were so impossibly light. So still.
And then, I saw the smallest chest rise. Then another. Then the third.
All three were alive. ALL THREE.
The mom came back. Sat right in that nest like nothing had ever happened. And the dad? Back and forth nonstop with worms. Like, clocked in. Fully on duty.
I don’t even know how to describe the feeling. Relief? Awe? Some weird, deep hope I didn’t know I still had?
Later, while the babies slept, I sat down to finish a craft order for a client on the Tedooo app, something calming. I stitched slow, watching the nest through the screen. I swear, every time I looked up, one of those babies had its beak just barely poking out, like it was checking in on me too.
Now I hear chirping. One of them is testing its voice, full of life.
Mom keeps swooping in with food. Dad’s close by, always watching.
And somehow, all of this, the panic, the rescue, the tiny heartbeat I thought was gone, has turned into this loud, messy, beautiful orchestra of survival.
They’re gonna make it. And today, that’s more than enough for me.
edit: thank you all for the kind words!!!
.
.
.
Credit goes to respective owners
