It has been seasonably warm of late in the UK, so to help keep the office cool, I had (as we often do in warmer weather) one of the doors open. This little guy flew in, crash landed, and wound up with his own little poem.
A newly fledged blackbird, somewhat lost
Haven’t seen him/her since I took them outside and released them. Ordinarily I wouldn’t interact with a fledgling in so direct a manner, but the poor little thing was confused and this was the quickest way to move them back where they belonged (outside) without chasing them around the office for half an hour trying to shoo them out (stressful for both parties and high risk of mess). I will admit that when they opted to remain sitting in my hand, I did gently stroke their tum.
So here is the daft chick’s poem. Hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think in the comments, on Facebook, via Twitter, email, wherever.
Flight of the FledglingMy tail may be just a stump, My wings not yet full grown. But all my feathers have arrived, So it’s high time this nest was flown. My mind made up I spread my wings, Prepared for my first take-off. I flap and flap to just fall over, Guess I’ve not practiced quite enough. Undaunted I spread my wings once more, And clumsily take to the air. I rise then crash before my nest-mates, Just pretend I intended to land there. The third attempt and the nest is left, For me to crash land to the ground. I sit for a time to collect myself, Before having a little hop around. Then behind me a step I hear, And I know just what to say. With a cry of alarm I spread my wings, And try to fly away. I reach the air, And start to flee. Dash through a gap, So they can’t follow me. It’s nice and shady in here, But the air is hot and still. I crash and tumble to the floor, To nurse my poor bashed bill. Another noise behind me, And I look around confused. A two-leg towers over me, Looking somewhat bemused. I try to flee once more, And the two-leg’s cry I heard. I wonder what those sounds mean, “Not that way you daft bird!” I see some light and try again, And bash my beak once more. The two-leg sneaks up behind me, To scoop me off the floor. I flutter for a moment, Then glare up at my captor. Thankful the grip is so gentle, Not crushing like a raptor. Suddenly I find myself outside, The two-leg has set me free. But I just sit there for a few moments, Whilst they tickle my tummy. Composed, I set off once more, Flying smack in to the fence. Before returning to the nest, To share the days events.