Saturday, February 27, 2010
Last June it was shade of serependity when I had the rare distinction of intruding into a maya’s nest deceptively hidden in one potted bush lodged in our building’s roof deck.
One bright morning, I almost stepped on a small wriggly mass of pinkish flesh on the slowly heating concrete floor of the deck, being devoured by a frenzied horde of small black ants. Stooping closer I could make out the crude outlines of an organism whose internal organs were visible from its diaphanous outer flesh. It was a newly hatched bird that much I knew. Picking it up and shooing with my fingers the busy clinging ants, I settled it on a small cup cushioned with a folded paper napkin and positioned the makeshift nest on top and in the safety of the observation deck I had constructed. Hoping the mother would return and minister to her young.
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