If you read my June 3d entry here you will remember my crime.
The grey and fluffy young blackbird I toppled from her nest and managed to bring home again, is now out and about. The little one is so-so at locating worms but not a great flyer, yet. And she comes very close to my door, peeking in from time to time, remembering, not doubt, my pitiful attempts to feed it grubs. And here is why I think I traumatised the little one. She is now capricious about food.
Shiny, black dad does his utter best to introduce Morello cherries to his offspring. An acquired taste, a little tart, I admit, but considered a great delicacy among blackbirds. The tree provides me with wonderful jam each year and I always leave plenty of fruit for birds.
Picture the teen fluffing about on the head of my little stone Buddha waiting for her dad. There he comes, with a bright-red cherry in his beak, already de-stoned. The young one takes one taste and spits it out. Dad picks up the morsel and tries again, repeat. This goes on for several rounds until the cycle is broken by the firm consistency of dad and the cherry is swallowed.
Watching the scene every morning on top of my stone Buddha’s head cracks me up; it’s so entertaining I keep forgetting to fetch my camera – maybe next time.
Later addition …
Just got this delightful drawing as an early birthday present from my son’s partner, Tasha. It encapsulates my little friend’s bliss, which is worms after all.