Flying Lessons

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Yesterday, while I was out, I was still in my car, when I saw a bunch of teenagers (what is the collective noun for teenagers anyway?) walk by, looking at something on the ground. I looked in the same direction, and saw a baby bird, all grey and fluffy, hopping  around on the ground. Another bird, black and shiny, flew down next to the baby bird, and flew off again. I noticed the black bird had a mouth full of stuff, and assumed that the kids had scared off the parent bird from feeding her baby.

Then the kids wandered off, and I saw the parent bird flying back down to the baby bird, perch there a moment, then fly up into the tree. She did that several times in a row, and I realized that what I probably was watching wasn’t actually feeding, but a flying lesson of sorts. “You fly up into this tree, squirt, and you can get this food.”

Unfortunately, I didn’t see the baby bird fly up into the tree. It hopped around a bit (the bird, not the tree), and flew across a corner of the parking lot, getting about a foot from the ground, but not up into the tree. It seemed more interested in looking around than in the food the parent was holding.

Kids today. Can’t teach them anything.

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