end of the nature trail

A final mockingbird* update:
The three relocated baby birds flew out of their nest on schedule. We were able to witness (unobtrusively from inside the house, of course, looking through our back "Discovery Channel" window) the last of the trio trembling on the edge of the nest—with parental units flitting about anxiously—not unlike the first time you walk to the edge of the diving board and stand there in terror while all your friends and family are squawking at you to "go ahead, you'll be just fine." The bird looked around as if to say "what a truly bad idea this is...throwing myself off a ledge into the unknown." However, Instinct is a dominatrix and finally launched the reluctant adolescent. The bird fluttered to the ground, then, hopped and flew awkwardly until it reached the gazebo. We assume that it will live happily ever after.

The fourth, hand-fed, runty bird has thrived and grown stronger, fuzzier, featherier and louder. We turned it over to the semi-pros of wildlife rehabilitation and have closed this chapter. The End.

*It was brought to my attention that there was no small irony in my being compelled to save a wild creature from the "mockingbird" category. I believe the insinuation was that I have a higher than average enjoyment of mockery. This after I witnessed the male accuser in tacky 50's drag and exhibited such restraint of my considerable lampooning gifts. Just wait til I create an online "dress the paper doll" flash game with my good friend Dave in his skivvies trying on his many colored poodle skirts.