A lot of time has passed since my last entry and since the whole blog time line deal is lost on me, I don't really give a shit that the previous post doesn't lead into this in a super nice flowing manner. I just promise you, this didn't happen in the last three minutes. The bird, which the rehab center swears is a Blackburnian Warbler didn't make it. I had a strained shred of hope and it was not all that believable since I did in fact drop the wounded soon not to make it bird off somewhere more promising. So I am not all that surprised to be honest. It sort of goes to show you it wasn't meant to be or whatever I am supposed to say to pretend I need to feel better over something that should bother me more than it does.
How bad is this: I'm not sure if I believe it was a warbler. You could have me surrounded by professionals, specialists and factual books on the subject and still not convince me that wasn't a female Baltimore Oriole. At least I can admit I have a problem. But seriously, if you look at the pictures, it resembles an oriole far more than a warbler. Maybe she died from nutritional deficiencies? I jest! I jest! I love that rehab place. They really do kick ass.
I am off to plan the future and what I have in store for it. Pretty exciting stuff. I also have company, so I am off to play the best hostess in the world. If that world were full of me and everyone understood me to the fullest extent anyway...
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1 comment:
I call bullshit on the warbler. HN agrees (with us. I wouldn't mention if it were with them)
KS knows a starling when she finds one.
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