POST BIRD TEXT STORIES IN GREEN
>Last summer
>See a softball on the forest floor
>Approach and realize that it's not a softball, but a fucking owl-chick
>He's fallen from the nest and is too young to fly
>Name him Foxfood, because if he doesn't get back in his hole by sunset, he'll be fox food.
>That evening
>locate nest cavity 15 feet up in nearby beech tree
>Climb up there with a ladder with Foxfood in hand
>See mother owl asleep in the back of the hole
>Quietly put Foxfood back in hole
>Mother didn't even know he was gone
Part of me regrets not taking Foxfood home and raising him as my own–how cool would it be to have a pet owl? But he probably had a better life in the wild.