fledgling vulnerability


A tiny bird, taking its first steps away from the nest, stands in my garden. A sparrow.

It runs after its mother following the only rule it knows. Stay close. It stands, beak gaping, pleading for food.  The mother provides. Insect after insect. The fledgling bird incessant, demanding, noisy. The mother industrious, giving, caring.

So helpless, so dependent, so vulnerable.

We are vulnerable too. We should embrace that. It’s beautiful.

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