We were going to my hubby’s office when I noticed something small and round on the asphalt. I couldn’t figure out what it was until it hopped awkwardly sideways.
It was a tiny baby bird.
My husband explained that a starling had built a nest inside a metal box for cables. Sure enough, there were twigs coming out of the opening on its base.
I’m no baby bird expert, but I do know that their best chance is with their parents and I know the parents do not reject them if someone has handled them. While my hubby watched from a safe distance (he doesn’t like touching baby birds–don’t worry I made fun of him for hours afterwards), I cradled the little guy in my hand.
He was a tiny thing. A tiny ball of a belly with two ridiculously large legs, a knob of a head with a massive mouth and a shock of feathers on its top. Pretty wasn’t on his list of things to worry about but that wasn’t the point.
He wasn’t scared of me as I picked him up. He just sat in my palm and looked at me while I explained to him what was happening. My explanation seemed to make sense to him because as soon as I lifted him into the opening of the nest, he hopped off inside. His sudden appearance set off a racket from his siblings waiting inside. Apparently, they had missed him.
We did our thing at Hubby’s work and came back to check on our nest. The baby bird was still inside and the mom was nowhere to be seen, so things seemed to be back on track.
I know it was a little thing, but it was the highlight of my day.