We walked home, with crinkly, thin, plastic bags in hand, chattering like the bird that my friends and I had discovered just a few hours before. He was so small, tiny enough I could carry him in the palm of our hands when we went from house, to house, in order to find a safe place to keep him.
The soft feathers that covered the chick’s scrawny frame stuck out in a disorderly manner, especially the antenna of a feather on the top of his tiny head. Soft cream covered feathers, with lines of cocoa speckles covered him, similar to a foamy cinnamon coffee. Tiny wings would occasionally raise and flap chaotically as he skipped around. This excessive wing movement was the reason my friend spotted the energetic baby bird in the first place.
The dull weight of our bags that we had become accustomed to, held birdseed, blueberries, and an eyedropper, among other random items to use to care for bird with. I carried a drink that had been purchased from Starbucks, so the arid taste of dust and desert wouldn’t …show more content…
Always ahead of us, the heat made the beige sidewalk appear to be evaporating into the hot, oven like air of Arizona that burned the skin on my back, and shone into my blue eyes, blinding me.
Worry and fear for the meager creature knotted in my chest. What if the feathery chick starved, or suffered from an illness? How would we care for the puny creature then? I suppose we could visit a vet, if a vet even knew how to care for a quail chick.
Laughter and voices of frivolous conversation surrounded the air around us, filling the entire world around me, reminding me not to stress everything was okay. Nothing would come out of my worry the bird was going to be fine and so were we. For the creature would have food, water, shelter, and safety, and my friends and I could watch the tiny fluff
The soft feathers that covered the chick’s scrawny frame stuck out in a disorderly manner, especially the antenna of a feather on the top of his tiny head. Soft cream covered feathers, with lines of cocoa speckles covered him, similar to a foamy cinnamon coffee. Tiny wings would occasionally raise and flap chaotically as he skipped around. This excessive wing movement was the reason my friend spotted the energetic baby bird in the first place.
The dull weight of our bags that we had become accustomed to, held birdseed, blueberries, and an eyedropper, among other random items to use to care for bird with. I carried a drink that had been purchased from Starbucks, so the arid taste of dust and desert wouldn’t …show more content…
Always ahead of us, the heat made the beige sidewalk appear to be evaporating into the hot, oven like air of Arizona that burned the skin on my back, and shone into my blue eyes, blinding me.
Worry and fear for the meager creature knotted in my chest. What if the feathery chick starved, or suffered from an illness? How would we care for the puny creature then? I suppose we could visit a vet, if a vet even knew how to care for a quail chick.
Laughter and voices of frivolous conversation surrounded the air around us, filling the entire world around me, reminding me not to stress everything was okay. Nothing would come out of my worry the bird was going to be fine and so were we. For the creature would have food, water, shelter, and safety, and my friends and I could watch the tiny fluff