That Time This Texan Helped Free the Birds

It was another blazing hot afternoon in the dead middle of a Texas summer. I was walking to my car after leaving a divorce support group. And there they were. Two baby birds with their wings wrapped around each other, a tiny pile of tiny feathers on the black asphalt.

Because of my natural inclination towards being a bleeding heart, there was no way I was leaving those two baby birds on the scorching pavement, huddling together near a parked car. I didn't want them squished by an oblivious driver or snatched up by a frisky feline.

I was also a little skittish about trying to actually pick up the birds. As I stood there wondering what to do - looking around for a nearby nest - another woman walked through the parking lot and joined me in marveling at this out-of-the-ordinary sight. She suggested I use her church program to scoop the birds into the grass.

About this time a young couple noticed us staring at the ground, then started to assist. Though I had thought the birds were intentionally clinging to each other for support, it turned out their spindly legs were tangled up in some twine together. The young couple called in another man - who retrieved a pair of baby bird-sized scissors to snip the twine - and a physical rescue commenced.

We joked about how mama bird had probably gotten tired of their bickering, tied them together and kicked them out of the nest, explaining they would have to work out their differences on their own. There was frantic flapping of wings and a few protective pecks at the helping hands, but the street surgeon's persistence paid off. Notice his serendipitous tattoo.

The moment these two were freed from each other, one of them shot straight up and away across the parking lot. There was no question she knew how to fly. Having just exited a room where the conversation centered around divorce - that human version of disentangling and freeing one's self - I had to smile at the metaphor.

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