6:19 a.m. Wednesday
The ol’ Pelee Magic has done its thing. Worries, anxieties and stress have vacated, all without supplemental medication – save an extra cup of coffee.
I got a solid six hours of sleep after playing double solitaire with mom till nearly midnight, keeping mom up WAY past her bedtime. Which is funny, because I remember when I was a wee sma one, 9 p.m. was way way past my bedtime. Your basic role reversal is at play here.
Yesterday, a quiet moment while reading The Pelee Project by Jane Christmas was interrupted by by a thud behind me – the tell-tale “Whack!” of a bird crashing into a window.
Sure enough, it was sprawled on its back with one wing flopping loosely and it was breathing heavily. Well, at least it wasn’t dead on impact. We tried to help it to its feet, unsuccessfully at first, as it fell over face-forward awkwardly (neck broken?), then to its side.
I grabbed a bit of newspaper to scoop him out of the sun – he’d have baked in that sun without some cover – then he/she (how can you tell??) fluttered into some nearby brush.
I looked for it a little later – no sign. Maybe it flew away, a little wiser to the dangers of sun glare and glass.