On a hot Saturday, since it is summer, this was in the backyard.
It huddled alone among the dead weeds on the parched land. What in the world? A white crow? Co siders g all the stress I was having I wondered if it was a sign from above. Black crows are a harbinger of death. White crows… who knows.
Well….It is a little egret. Not a big heron like the ones that soar majestically above our heads as they gracefully land into the river behind our house. Nope. It is small. This one hopped around even with the noise of the weeder going. I figured something was wrong with it. It couldn’t fly away.
We caught it. It is currently resting in the tub. Here is my dilemma. There are no Audubon wildlife society clinics here. There are no vets designated for wild birds here. There are no wildlife rehabilitators anywhere near here. And the Department of Fish and Game? Not picking up their phones. What the hell are we gonna do?
We plan to release the bird into a sanctuary. After it rests, that is. We have to go and buy small gold fishes for it for now. At the very least, we have nearby sanctuaries where the bird can have places to hide, a place to find grub and drink. And let nature take its course to heal it. We hope. Because we can see no visible injury. It just can’t fly. And we have currently no one to guide us.
Update: bird was released into the Delta. Or at least a place near the Delta called The Reserve. It’s by a golf course so it is pretty well protected. There are places it can hide, it’s near water and it has plenty of grub. Everything the bird needs to give it a chance.