Bingo! Yesterday! The thrill! The joy! The heartswelling breathlessness of it! Of witnessing a nestling bluebird's courageous virgin flight. For courage she must have, to fling herself out of the house with nothing solid beneath her for the first time ever. It's an effort that requires mastery on the first attempt. Otherwise, disaster. Imagine it.
I often get accused of hyperbole by the thoughtful and dignified people in my circle of family and friends. Perhaps they've never watched and waited for a nestful of new baby blues to gather the courage for this:
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July 3rd: You can do this, little bird! |
I give up. Can't get video to play. You'll just have to believe it's a breathtaking moment...
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Moe opening house on June 15 to aim camera blindly inside |
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Photo taken June 15, not sure of laying date |
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Hatched on June 18, Day 1 |
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Growing, June 23, Day 6 |
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Almost ready, July 2, Day 15
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Any second now, July 3, Day 16
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I wonder what elegant moment in nature excited Henry David Thoreau's hyperbolic exuberance when he wrote:
"Talk of mysteries! Think of our life in nature ~ rocks, trees, wind on our cheeks! The solid earth! The actual world! The common sense!"
Could it have been something as common as the fledge of a bluebird? dkm
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