Birds

We released our indignant little friend this morning. My dad woke me up to tell me it was climbing up the sides of the box. I picked it up with gardening gloves on and took it outside. When I lowered my hand to the ground the it just sat in my hand, so I slid my hand out of the glove, but it continued to sit on the glove. Finally we went inside and I watched from the window as it began to stretch its wings and flap, then fly, quite low, into the bushes, fail to grasp a sturdy branch, and fall to the ground. I rushed out to check on it, sitting in the bushes, and looking as though it were glowering at me. The dark band across its eyes gave it this perpetual scowling appearance. All the while we had it, it seemed very unamused.

I have not really seen it around since. I guess a night of rest was all it needed.

(Kate Nash)