Monday, February 8, 2016

On a cute little bird

I had been walking from the bus stop to the kita to pick up Max.  I was just about to turn into the parking lot when I happened to see a bird on the ground.  It caught my eye, as it was such a beautiful one.  So small, with blue and yellow coloring on its feathers.  I am generally not at all observant, and would miss an asteroid falling from the sky because I wasn't looking in the right place, but it was impossible to not notice this bird lying on the gray cement. I had never done this before, but I gave the bird a moment of silence to mourn it, as I had assumed it was dead.  

I continued my stroll.  I hadn't gone very far but found myself checking on the bird again and that is when I saw the legs of the bird moving.  

I should point out that I have basically zero experience with anything "nature-y."  I wasn't sure what I should do.  I was wearing gloves, so I picked up the bird and held it in one hand while pushing a stroller with the other.  It didn't appear to be hurt, but it seemed to like resting in my hand.  This is the closest my life has come to reenacting a scene from Beauty and the Beast. 

Once I got to Max's kita, I wasn't quite sure what I should do.  I could put some cloth in one of the cupholders on the stroller and put the bird in the holder.  But then what?  Do I now have a pet bird? Life hadn't prepared me for this bird situation.

Apparently, the bird was telepathic and chose that moment to fly up into the branches of the tree next to us.  I felt like had been part of something special and beautiful, even if I can't figure out the meaning of it all. 

I was in a lovely mood when I walked into the kita to retrieve my son.  Who chose that day to unleash a fit of epic proportions because... it was January?  It was a Thursday?...who knows.  I had been hoping that if life were to give me another scene from Beauty and the Beast it would involve a personal gigantic library including sliding library ladders.  Not one of the Beast's tantrums.


No comments:

Post a Comment