It is apparently flight school time of year again in our neighborhood. Most years we don't have much contact with the teenage birds learning to fly, this year has been different.
My husband and I returned home one evening to see a strange looking bird resting on the running board of my F-150. When we left the house sometime later to take the dog for our evening walk, the bird was still there. It flew only a few feet when Keva charged at it. I managed to rescue it from becoming a meal by yelling "NO!" and holding up a leash; Keva came running back to go for a walk. I then decided to investigate, just in case it was an injured bird. Turns out that it was just learning to fly; which explained the wobbly flight pattern and the funny looking feathers. I scared it off the bottom of our driveway and out of the street. Thankfully, it learned to fly enough to get up into a tree while I waved my arms and hollered at it. All the while, daddy or mama robin squawked over head. We left to go for a walk with me telling the robin that human parents struggle to teach their kids to drive. I might have even told the bird that it does take a village.
It's been a beautiful day here in KC. High of 83 and low humidity made it a perfect afternoon to head outback in a swimsuit to get some sun for a few minutes. I settled into my chaise lounge chair and Keva started her customary check-up of all the "good" smells of the backyard. Just as I reached up to take off my glasses, I noticed her characteristic point and stone-still stance. I followed her gaze to something small and dark gray-brown on the ground. Keva started to pounce and the small creature began flapping. Once again, I yelled, "NO!" and rescued a winged thing from impending doom. As soon as Keva was called off, the wobbly flight pattern registered in my head and I realized that it was another teenage bird learning to "drive". He rested again in the grass, so I sprang to my feet and tried, in vain, to scare him into flying into a tree so I could rest easy knowing he was safe from the 85 pound furry beast. His disapproving parent yelled at me from overhead as he flew, one foot at a time, only inches off the ground, halfway across our backyard and behind a tree.
It has always fascinated me how birds just shove their young out of their nests and hope that instinct takes over. They have ways of coping when the little ones don't succeed at flying right off, but only if my dog or the stray cats don't get to them first. Imagine raising your children and having them just watch you drive until they turn 16. Then, at 16, just handing them the keys to the car and shoving them out the front door, hoping that they know how to handle it on their own. You would watch from your nest and swoop in only when they had an accident. Really, that kind of attitude is for the birds! (Pardon the cheesy pun, I couldn't help it.)
Flight itself is a human fascination. Da Vinci designed flying machines, the Wright brothers got it off the ground, and many people dream of piloting a plane. We're drawn to the new perspective we get when we view our earth from above. We've even gone into space!
The humans at our house will take flight on Monday. We're heading to Lake Geneva, Wisconsin via Milwaukee for a vacation. Keva will be staying on the ground, comfortably at home, and hopefully only eating the food our neighbor puts in her bowl, not the fowl learning a flight pattern of their own.
Mean while, fireworks will also take flight this weekend in celebration of the fourth. Be safe this holiday weekend. I'll probably continue to post next week, but I doubt that it will be business as usual.