Bye Bye Mockingbirds

That's what I think they are. Or were. Therein lies the ambiguity of life. I do not know whether the little critters that teetered on their nests the other day responding in little chirps to their mother encouraging them to fly, actually made it safely to the sky.

I noticed when I woke up yesterday that the noise at my window was gone. When I went out I saw that both baby birds were grounded in the back yard. One had barely been missed being squished by the tires of my neighbor's Saab. As he left, I saw the little creature, standing stock still, more so as I approached. Then he hightailed it to the garbage can area, near some bushes. Mother (or father as they both contribute to the scene) was above on a wire watching me suspiciously. I then went in search of the second sibling and found him or her nearer to my jasmine plants. He hopped off to the front of my parked car's tire. I took a picture.

There were flying lessons from one of the parent birds. Fascinating to watch as she or he would stand by baby (who screeched in panic or need for comfort, or both) extend wings in modeling and then take off for the wire, over and over.

 Mother mockingbird, father mockingbird and I all worried about the danger of crows simply swooping down and ending very very short lives. I wanted to do something to get them out of harm's way, but I knew that any touching by me would doom them, after terrifying them. It was like these nature shows. You watch, but you cannot interfere. Or is that the "prime directive" from Star Trek? Both. I went my way for a few hours. I prayed frankly that God not allow them to come to harm. But if He did, I begged that He not permit me to see it. I would have liked better to watch them take off, and for that primarily I prayed and hoped.
When I got back, only one bird was still around, the one by the trash cans. It was also the only "whooping" I heard. Mother or father was again down and up demonstrating the joy of flying. Somebody wasn't getting it.

As it got dark, I had to give up watching.

This morning, on my way out, I scanned and walked the perimeter of my yard. No more baby birds.

I did not see them take off. I did not see them kidnapped or eaten (Happily, as in my current evolving emotional state over my own life's issues this might have meant a great deal of wailing). I do not know if they made it. I am inclined to think they did as things seemed to be progressing and I did not see any parent bird lurking about as if in search for a wayward little one. I am compelled to go on faith that they are in the sky and the trees around me.