The Mockingbird Chronicles — 1
The Storm to End All Storms
A week and a day ago, there was a pretty bad storm. We had hail, sheeting rain, thunder that growled like an angry animal, and to our horror, some downed branches and a nest out of a tree.
It was a dark and stormy night … no, scratch that. It was a dismally drear evening after the storm had dissipated. Being dusk, all of the day birds had already roosted for the night, and we were just walking the property to see what kind of damage would need to be cleaned up the next day. Some twigs were down. A branch. Lots of leaves littered the ground.
Then, the neighbor called to my daughter and pointed over to the ground in their yard, telling her something. She came running!
We all tramped over there to see what the fuss was about, and lo, a nest had been knocked out of a tree. Three baby birds lay peeping weakly in the wet grass, cold and dying. One passed within the next minute from the fall, but we took the other two home to see what we could do.
This is a picture of them before I got them cleaned, warmed up, and fed.
We had no clue if these babies were going to live or not. The smaller one on the left was so weak and wasn’t acting right. We tried to feed it, but it passed away a couple of days later. The one on the right…
