Although I hate them I have also come to love them.

I'm not going to give them names or anything but watching these foul feathered friends grow has tapped into my maternal instincts. Now that doesnt mean I want any more where they came from so 'Reens and I have been doing our best to make our balcony inhospitable. This included removing the boxes under which they found shelter, loud noises at all hours of the day, and the occasional flying beer can. Then there was the egg; apparently just a few days before the first chicks are ready to leave home the mother will lay another. It was me who put on the rubber gloves and tossed it over the rail...birdie abortion if you will. That I do not feel guilty about. I consider it a favour to a mother bird who lacks a suitable home in which to raise another child. It's what happened after that keeps me up at night...

Yesturday, we decided, was the day. We were out there, stacking the empties, preparing for our anual trip with a shopping cart of cans. The newly hatched had been flapping up to the rail and back down to the floor for a while...the little one still had a few baby feathers sticking out of its head. I questioned the runts ablility to make it to the windowsill where momma and poppa looked on. I wish i could say it was a joyous occasion; watching them jump from the balcony and take flight for the first time. It almost was.

They stood poised, head under the rail, prepared for what was next. A can flew through the air in their general direction. The birdie leapt and flapped with all its might, using every ounce of strength it perched on the window sill between its parents. Success.

The second eviction notice was served. The child took off, flapping frantically, just 2 inches below the sill, he turns back to the balcony and misses, turns again to the next sill, again and again...I watched in terror, willing the birdie to find a foothold. Each turn brings him one story closer the the ground. He had 16 chances to land...I lost sight of him around the 8th floor. I'v been telling myself he found a new balcony, that his mother brings him food before returning to my sill each morning. I'm not so sure this is true. I can't even look the others in the eye.

Love forever,
Jamie