Baby Bird

baby bird

Baby Bird

A Short Story by SimplySunni

As I sit here on my rest and heal venture, I am bothered. No, I am annoyed. No, I am despondent and wanting to help. You see, there is a baby bird in a tree screeching and screeching, crying and crying for mama bird.

Let me back up. When things were better, almost a year ago, the last time I was here, maybe a little more even, I saw mama woodpecker peck this entire hole into the dead tree. I watched her anticipating the eggs she would lay in the home she was building for her babies. I likened that experience to my own of raising four children.

It brought me great joy to watch mama bird building this home. For, I knew there she would love and nurture her body until the eggs were laid. Then, I knew she would build that nest and lay her eggs with all a care of a mama birthing baby.

Finally, mama woodpecker would wait the agonizing days for her babies to hatch. And once they were hatched, the real work would begin.

baby bird

She would love them endlessly.

She would care for them with food and warmth. She would defend them with her life from the blue jays and snakes and hawks. Mama bird would teach them both safety and participation, gifting them with survival skills along the way.

She would teach them to fly. 

What happens after a woodpecker leaves the nest? I don’t know. Do they ever see mama again? Does mama move on? Does she visit her grandbaby birds? I don’t know.

You see, wildlife nature is different from human nature. When our babies are born, the chemical delivered to our brains is a powerful agent linking us forever to that infant. And if anyone or anything tries to destroy that link, we fight like vicious bears to protect and care for our little ones.

And I’ve always done that. 

I’m back to reflecting on myself again. That was not the intention for my relaxation and healing weekend.

However, the pain is too much listening to the baby bird and its pleadings for its mama. Still, the mama is faithful. Every day I watch her come to the nest, place a bug or berry into the baby bird’s mouth and fly away. And in typical mama fashion, she comes back multiple times a day to feed and care for the baby.

For now, this little one is in her charge until that baby flies the nest. It is her responsibility, her goal, her pride, and joy to care for that baby.

Baby Bird

I am a mother who has suffered estrangement. My daughter left and has not returned.

Until the day she comes back…

I will gather sticks for her nest; I will pick berries and insects for her to eat. I will make a storehouse that says…

I love you…

…and I accept you.