The Circle of Life

This afternoon I was pushing kids on swings, when I saw a teacher from another class waving me over.  She pointed where a couple of my kids were standing and said she thought there was something there, maybe a bird. 

I jogged over, and in my mind I was picturing a big, nasty, dead bird.

Unfortunately, that is not what I saw.

On the ground, surrounded by 2-year-olds pointing at it (but not touching it!), was a teeny tiny baby bird.  I looked up and realized there was a nest built into part of the window frame.  That poor baby bird had fallen about 30 feet I'd guess.  And the sad part was, he was still alive.

He had no feathers, just a bit of fuzz.  His wings were just tiny little arm-looking things.  And I could see him take each breath.  Every once in a while he would flail his legs and the kids, not understanding the inevitable outcome, thought that was hilarious.  He had a very noticably yellow mouth.  He opened it once.

Papa John was beckoned to come 'take care of' the baby bird.  It was very sad.  There was a bird sitting up on the roof for about 10 minutes just going, "Tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet," constantly.  It was right by the nest, and I think it was the mother looking for her baby.  It made me even sadder.

I didn't tell the kids that the bird was going to die.  I just told them that Papa John was going to take care of the bird.  They probably think he's taking it home.  Poor bird.  I feel like we should have had a little ceremony for him or something. 

But I guess that's taking it a little too far.