The robins flew the nest and fledged on Independence Day. This morning one of them was sitting on the gas grill getting fed by its mother. She flew off to find and feed the others and he stayed perched, either through instinct or instructions. I was curious to find out if and how well he could fly. I walked over and he stayed perched in place, not the least frightened, gazing at me curiously rather than warily. I talked to him and he listened.
I said, "stay there, I'll be right back," and got my camera. I set it in the macro range, opened the flash, zoomed in - to be ready - sat down in front of him and snapped away. He cocked his head this way and that to give me different angles. The perfect model. Later he flew off - at least I think I caught him out of the corner of my eye and after I saw him hopping in Mike's garden.
Charles has a new short story The Ride at 10 Flash Quarterly in the series featuring Artie the Angel, the gangster who who definitely can't shoot too straight and has problems Tony Soprano could only imagine.
Image ... Robin fledgling. Fenway Victory Gardens, Boston.
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