My Photography Class Is Out to Kill Me

It happened again.

There we were enjoying a beautiful Spring morning.
I had my trusty camera along for the ride - attempting to simultaneously finish an assignment and entertain 2 children.
And I happened upon this.
It was breathtaking.

I busied myself climbing into the tree, ducking branches, turning knobs and snapping away. The girls played around me and watched the construction crews working nearby.

At first I stayed back and then I decided to get closer.
And then a little bit closer.
And then even closer.
And all the while, a bird in tree next to me was chirping at the top of her lungs.
Every time I moved in, she chirped louder.

She was not my biggest fan.
And I thought she needed to chill.

A few minutes went by and I became more and more engrossed in my nature photography.
They were precious.
And then I looked around, and Aubrey was gone.
Gone.
Completely gone.

I called her name.
No answer.
I searched where she had been.
No Aubrey.
I walked around the corner.
Nope.
I screamed her name at the top of my lungs.
Still no answer.

And all the while, Brooklyn was getting more and more frantic.
She started crying. She started shaking. She was near hysterics.

And the panic hit.
We were by the mailbox - could someone have taken her?
There were tons of trucks and machines around - was she in front of one?
There is more than one registered offender living near us - did someone grab her?

I seriously think my heart stopped.
I felt it.

And a few minutes later, we found her.
She had walked across the mini-street and gone home.
She was smiling and oblivious.
I wanted to strangle her and hug her at the same time.

I decided to hug.


And as I sat there holding her, I realized what that mother bird had been worried about.
There were her new sweet babies, there was a threat, and there was nothing she could do about it.

I knew how that felt, and it wasn't fun.

So I left her children alone.
And I took mine home.
Because no mother should have to feel that.

Bird or not.