A Baby Sparrow

As a picture-taker, you have to love fledglings. They're in no hurry to fly off (if they can), and they pose, and pose, and pose.

But, as a birditarian (?), you have to feel a little sorry for them.

It's almost as if they are in a daze. "When, and where do I fly? What happened to my nest? Where, and what do I eat?" And, probably the biggest question..."Where, oh where has my bird mama gone...oh where, o where can she be?"

It would be like us kicking our 11-12 year old children to the street. "You're on your own, boy. Best of luck."

I try to be aware when they are in my back yard. Our one dog is blind, but the little one goes after the fledglings. Also, the neighbors cat knows where my bird feeder is.

One time, on my patio...their cat was lurking behind one of my lawn chairs...waiting to strike. I hit the door running...tennis shoe in hand...intending to chase the cat out of my yard.

The problem? The patio was wet...I made a quick turn...and went down like a ton of bricks...rolling my ankle. Alone...I laid there feeling rather foolish, but eventually had to get up. It was about 5-6 months before it felt normal. Lesson learned.

Part of me would like to catch the sparrow, and bring it inside for a couple weeks...giving it strength and time. But, the other part has to realize that it is nature, and nature wins.

Good luck to the wee one.