There is something about watering plants, feeding them, watching them grow. It is easy. When I was little I loved watering our garden. Imagining little fairies staying under the leaves so that they wouldn't get wet.
Environments change and with the drought one of my favourite places went from lush green growth to dry barren land. Like that of it's gardener, sick and hung; fragile, non existant. With the coming of 2012 we decided to reinvent it. Rejuvinating what is stuggling and replacing what has been lost for so long- hydrangeas!! And so my garden interest began to grow, along with a slight obession with hydrangeas.
We planted two, one each side of the front steps, and then a heat wave hit. I watered them morning and night and now it lay in my Grandpa's hands until we return to them.
"Come and see what fell outside" she led me by the hand as we stepped out the door. There it was, calling me. "Oh a baby bird!" It stood out, yellow mouthed and squarking like crazy. I picked it up and took it in. At first it was happy to eat, we found a site that told us all about how to care for baby sparrows, so we fed it dry dog food and made it as warm as possible. It's little demands were a little draining but it was a squarking life. I learnt a lot about sparrows and baby birds in general and then as though a hangover from it's birth the year before the little baby died, not going to face the new year. Surviving 38hrs after falling from the palm tree.
Some things grow and adapt, others can't survive and maybe they aren't meant to. Maybe there were too many little sparrows in the palm tree. I am dissapointed the sparrow didn't grow up but I know that I tried to save it's life and next time I will do the same.