The Lighthearted Dragonfly

The lone surviving bird from our front porch.

A few years ago, I was surprised to find that a bird had made her nest in my artificial flower arrangement hanging on our front porch.  At first, the little babies were nearly naked and so very tiny.  My three young children and I took a picture of them each day and I grew attached to them.  On his way to work one morning, my husband, Darrell, noticed that something—a cat most likely—had gotten to the nest and knocked the whole thing off the wall.  There were no signs of any of the babies, and I sadly began to clean up the mess.  I lifted up the flower holder, and hidden underneath it was one little baby bird.  I carefully picked him up in a towel and put him and the nest back on the wall, afraid that my touching him would make the mother bird reject him.  Later that day, Mama Bird came back and resumed nurturing her last remaining baby.  I continued observing his growth, taking pictures regularly.  A week or so later I was standing on the driveway and witnessed Baby Bird (now a young “teen” bird) take his first flight.  I never saw him again, as he was ready to move from that nest into the great big world, but I truly believe that I was meant to see him off and know that he had flown away on his own.