Little Bird

When my son was a baby I called him "Little Bird". Now he's just "Bird"...but I found another little bird to make friends with while in Mass at Rites of Spring.

Cute, huh?

It was nesting in our cabin, where the roof met the wall.

It would peek over the edge of the nest, probably thinking "Nobody's home, go 'way!"

Each morning, it would flit from bunk to bunk, checking us all out, then it would dive out the door and fetch back breakfast, usually a nice wriggly grub. I was often alone in the cabin, and the bird would watch me move about, cocking its head this way and that, sometimes chiding me for making too much noise. I tried to move quietly so I didn't disturb it too much.

I had a nest of my own at Rites.

With the tapestry rolled down, I had a blue cocoon.It was a little cramped, but not too bad. I do wish the bunks had a little more clearance to them - I couldn't sit up and read under there, or sit on the edge of the bed to chat.

I was the only one who didn't get a morning inspection by our feathered friend, because it couldn't figure out how to pop inside and visit. That may be why it was so keen to see what I was up to in the morning.

Given the chorus of snores in the cabin, I wouldn't be surprised if the bird thought a tribe of bears had taken up residence. Strange, hairless bears.

It was a sweet little bird, and I'm glad to have met it...