I was walking up the steps towards Main Street, having parked the car by Ragged Staff gates yesterday morning, when I saw a little birdie perched on the top one. It looked at me as I stopped and stared back into its bright black eyes. We regarded each other for several moments until I remembered I needed to be somewhere and moved. The fledgling fluttered and jumped around a few times, ending up under a bench.
I approached and wavered, not happy to leave it there but not sure of the alternative; I was late.
Seeing some gardeners working in the adjacent flower beds I approached and asked them to keep an eye on the little one. The younger chap stared back at me with wide eyes, no doubt wondering what I was on; finally he asked me where it was. I doubled back and showed him where the bird was hiding and the young man dived in to grab it. It was too young to fly but led the chap a merry chase as it fluttered just beyond his reach every time he swooped in to catch it. Down the stairs they danced, the man jumped and crouched, jumped and crouched as the bird fluttered a feather's breadth ahead of him. Finally, he managed to catch the fledgling, holding it gently in his strong hand.
"Ah, he has a new papi!" I laughed.
"Leave him in the flower bed over there," the older gardener said as we returned, "The mother will find it and come to feed it." There were low-growing bushes and plants there and it seemed a much better place for the fledgling shelter. I hope he was right; there was no sign of it as I walked past again a few hours later.
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