Sweet little bird

My neighbor (not the next door ones, they wouldn’t in a million years) brought me an injured bird, as she knows I whisper them, but I couldn’t save it. Despite my son warning me of germs and diseases I held it warm against my heart and it died loved, which is the best any of us can wish for.

This morning, after a lot of badly needed rain, I found the wettest bumbler I have ever rescued. I nearly gave up, but brought it in the house while I got Maxie’s breakfast, and when we went back out again, it was warm enough to fly. I watched it soar up over the roof of our house, incredulous. After losing the bird, I was not about to give up on the little bee.

poor little mite
wings whirring a bit!