Wednesday, November 5, 2008

The Killdeer




July 2, 2006

A few weeks ago, near the duck pond behind my office in Murray, I spied a killdeer, making its odd cry and feigning injury. From experience, I know what that means: nest near by. So, I abandoned my plans for a walk and began looking for the nest, trying to gauge by the direction the killdeer was trying to lead me where her nest might lay. I wandered around in careful circles for twenty minutes or so without luck. I even tried to hide behind a tree and see whether the mother killdeer would return to her nest, but it didn’t work. At last, I gave up and headed back to the office. As I reached the shade of a line of cottonwoods, however, I paused again to see what the mother killdeer would do. This time, she fell for the ruse. She sat down on a barren patch of dirt I’d passed over several times previously, and right there, sure enough, I found her eggs—two beautiful, cream colored eggs with black speckles.

A few days later, there were four perfect eggs, nestled in a little cup of dirt; the next day, two. Then none. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away …

No comments: