Earl, Etc.

Rex and I went on a getaway last weekend to celebrate him being finished with studying for his boards.  He's been studying his butt off all summer, and he really deserved a break.  We went up to my parents' cabin, which is located back in the woods right on a river.  It was awesome.  One of my favorite parts of the trip was our new little friend named Earl.  Rex and I were sitting on an outdoor swing, overlooking the beautiful river, enjoying the peaceful tranquility, when all of a sudden...

FLAP FLAP

FLIP

FLUFFLE FLUFFLE

TWEET!

THUD

We both instantly turned around, trying to discover the source of the weird noise.  We saw a stunned baby robin on the ground, looking around with wide eyes as if to say, "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!"  He had jumped out of the nest for the first time.  Poor little brave guy!  (That's not Earl, by the way.  That's just some baby robin.)  Anyway, he started hopping around, trying to fly, and it was hilarious.  He couldn't even really walk (he'd never been out of a nest, remember?), so he looked like a drunk little ball of fluff.  Finally he hopped and flapped and landed on a tree, and then I swear I saw him smile triumphantly as if to say, "Look at me!  I FLEW!"  Then he looked down and realized that he was only four inches from the ground, sitting on the side of a tree trunk.  Oh well.  You have to start somewhere, right?

Rex and I walked over to the nest to investigate the situation.  There was one little bird left in the nest, and he looked understandably pretty lonely and scared.  We felt bad for him, but we didn't want to freak him out more by having two humans stare at him, so we walked away.

About twenty minutes later, Rex peeked around the corner and said, "Christine!  The last robin is about to jump!"  I looked around too, and I saw the little guy standing on the side of the nest.  He looked very concerned (I didn't realize that robins had so many facial expressions).  He would briefly look down to the ground, then snap his head back to looking straight ahead as if to say, "Holy CRAP that's a long way down!"  His eyes were wide, and it was easy to see he was scared.  I decided to cheer for him.  "Come on, Earl!  You can do it!"  I said.  Then Rex said that he thought "Earl" was a great name for a robin, so it stuck.  

We cheered for Earl, but I don't think he interpreted human shrieking as the encouragement he needed.  He just kept standing on the edge of the nest, clinging to the twigs for dear life, and staring straight ahead.  We decided to go back about our business.

We kept swinging on the swing for a while.  Earl didn't move.

We read our books for a while.  Earl didn't move.

Rex decided to grill some hamburgers.  Earl didn't move.

We ate the hamburgers (well, kind of...they didn't turn out great so we ended up throwing them away, but that's a different story entirely).  Earl didn't move.

Earl stood on the edge of that nest for FOUR HOURS.  After about two hours, I felt absolutely ridiculous for spending so much time watching a bird.  By then, though, it was a battle of willpower.  Who would last longer - Earl standing on the edge of that nest, or me watching him?  Plus, I named him.  I cheered for him.  I was clearly invested in the situation.

Finally, after four hours, I was about to turn a page in my book when I heard something move.  I snapped my head up to look at Earl, and he did it!  He jumped!  He jumped out of the nest, stretched out his wings...

...and flew directly into the side of our chimney.  Oops.

He hit his head on the chimney and stopped flapping as much as he fell to the rocky ground below.  Aaaaaah!!  I could not believe I had waited four hours to watch a bird kill himself.  I ran over to the ground to see if he was okay (which, in retrospect, was pretty dumb.  What was I going to do if he was injured?  Bird CPR?  Make a wing splint with some toothpicks?).  Robins must be resilient little buggers, because Earl was okay.  He was just cranky (see picture below.  I told you birds have facial expressions).  He stared at me for a long time, then started trying out his new legs in the same hoppy/flappy motions his brother had done hours earlier.  Rex and I watched him drunkenly flop away, and we wished him luck on life's endeavors.  Hooray for Earl!