Drawn from Life

The Violet-green Swallows fledged from the nest box on the front of the Cottage yesterday. And this morning, I found one dead, beneath the box. While its newly flighted siblings flew around the front garden, stopping occasionally to be fed by their parents, I sat down a cried a while.

This little baby bird, fully feathered, nestled in my hand. Its wings never knew flight.

The weather has been brutally hot these past few days, and perhaps that’s why it perished. I found another of its siblings, not quite fully flighted on the front porch and moved it to a shady spot in the garden where mama found it immediately and fed it.

I used to study Violet-green Swallows when I was still a working biologist. There’s probably a couple of scientific papers about them out there somewhere with my name on them. I lost interest in such accomplishments a long time ago.

I took this little fellow inside and put it on my painting table. I rarely draw from life and not often from specimens either, but it seemed only right that I sketch this tiny fledgling while I had the chance.

Afterward, I buried it the garden. I watched its family circling in the blue summer sky above.

I prayed for their safety.

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