From nestling to fledgling and beyond

 

We have a Zoom writers' group coming up and have been set a very simple task: hold one egg, think about it, then write.

I'm going to cheat a little, because I haven't actually held the egg I'm writing about, although I have held something that came out of it.  You won't need a clue - the photo of a baby bird aged about seven days gives it away.

Let me tell you the tale. 

About three weeks ago we discovered a dove's nest in our garage. A beautiful pure white dove was sitting in it, with another dove up in the rafters. The nest was made inside a basket that was rather too small. As we peeped in to check progress each day we saw the female dove (or maybe the male) looked increasingly uncomfortable. Then she found a new place to sit, on a higher shelf, leaving behind one small white egg and an enormous nestling with massive feet and a huge hooked beak. It was probably around three days old. 

It seemed ridiculous that such a large baby should have emerged from such a small egg so we thought that some other bird had laid an egg in that little nest. Nevertheless, it needed to be cared for so we transferred it to a larger basket in the hope that the parents would care for it.

Two doves sat watching and cooing as we checked day by day. They were obviously looking after the nestling because he or she carried on growing.  The little dove climbed out of the new nest and rested on a rolled up wooden matchstick-style roller blind. As you will see from the seven day photo above it began to develop feathers. It is about two weeks old now and today's photo shows that it is beginning to resemble its parents.

So we have a beautiful fledgling - not flying yet, or cooing, but with a downy white plumage, some signs of tail feathers plus feet and a beak of the correct size. Still a little scruffy but nearly as pure and wonderful as the birds who watch over him or her and any day now will stop feeding so that the little bird leaves the safety of the roller blind and begins to try to fly.

So what has all this to do with us as writers? It reminds me of when I was a beginner writer. Going to a writers' group I felt out of place, different, my efforts clumsy. I felt I stood out from the group as 'not really a writer'. 

Have you felt like this? We may think we will never change to produce beautiful writing like those experienced, literate,, shining, successful people around us. Yet we can be nurtured by other writers who will know when to stop feeding us and encourage us to go. We will be transformed into our true selves - letting our voices be heard through what we write, preach or teach. We will fly!

I'll remember the other white egg that never developed. Its smooth white shell was never broken, its potential wasted when it never developed into the magnificent bird it was meant to be.

Meanwhile, I think I have finished my writing task for Brecks, Fens and Pens.

Annie Try doesn't usually write about birds but writes novels about extraordinary people overcoming mental health problems and solving mysteries along the way. Her latest story, Red Cabbage Blue, can be found online or ordered through most bookshops. Her last three novels are published by Instant Apostle.