A few years back I had a good run with turtles. I'd be cruising around Virginia and see one slowwwly crawling across the road, be it Walter Reed or a winding county road. I'd always stop, pick them up and move them across the road way and hopefully out of harm's way.
Tonight Sweets was on point. She ran to the bottom corner of the pasture, then back to a large rock and stood there. She looked at me, she looked at the corner, back and forth a few times like a tennis match. It wasn't noticeable enough to me at the moment. "I really should move that stump," I thought. So, I picked it up and headed for the corner.
No sooner then I got to the corner did I see a small yellow bellied bird that had one wing tangled in a few "burr" weeds that I had haphazardly tossed in the briars a few days earlier.
'You've got to be kidding me", I think.
Don't get me wrong, I love this stuff. Talk about the trickle down effect- my weeding=injured wildlfe.
So I step up on the stump (perfect step stool don't cha know) and pull the bird out.
Injured bird and two bird dogs...great.
I pull out a few of the long burr branches and he falls...
Noses come over to investigate...
"Off"
I pick him up and can feel his heart pounding. I'm working on picking our the small burrs, ack! there go a few feathers, c'mon let me try to smooth out those feathers and just like that...he chirped and flew off. Meanwhile, Sweets was waiting a the gate, mesmerized, hyptonized by a real, live bird one moment and poof- gone the next.
It's those intense, suprising moments in life that I love. We earned our St. Francis "Yellow Bellied Fly Catcher" Girl Scout Badge at 5:35pm this evening.
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