Cry, cry, cry

Whole lot of weepin' and wailin' going on

Whole lot of weepin’ and wailin’ going on

Yesterday, the wind howled.

The trees danced.

Some trees tipped over sideways, crashing onto the forest floor with a large BOOM!

“Gosh, I haven’t seen wind like this in ages,” I said to Barry.  “How strong do you think it is?”

“Fifty miles per hour?” he suggested.

I concurred.

Run away, baby robin

Run away, baby robin

The wind gusted.

The trees creaked and groaned and bent sideways and sometimes crashed.

Electric green spring leaves drifted downward as the wind continued its frenzy and rain drops beat a wild spring storm tune.

Butt in the air

Butt in the air

Somewhere around 2:30 p.m. a nearby tree crashed on the power line.

We nodded.  No electricity.  We’re used to this routine.

No problem.  We had cleverly filled a bucket with water for flushing the toilet.

I phoned in our outage to the Ontonagon County Rural Electrical Association.  The automated voice assured that crews would be working to restore power in L’Anse, Skanee and Aura (all mispronounced).  Just have patience, please.

C'mon, you can spread those wings and fly, can't you?

C’mon, you can spread those wings and fly, can’t you?

After the rain, the crying started.  Weeping and wailing out on the yard.  We investigated. ‘Twas a baby robin whose nest probably flew to Kingdom Come before he was prepared to fly.  The nest–meant to protect him for another day or six–disappeared in a huge wind gust.

He simply did not know how to propel heavenward.

So he bawled.

His mama and papa hopped nearby for a while, attempting to placate. Fed him a couple of garden worms. Nothing worked.

Mama then got the brilliant idea to dive-bomb and attack her baby in an attempt to send him skyward.

That didn’t work either.  Baby cried and cried and cried.

First, jump up in the air

First, jump up in the air

Baby finally attempted jumping.  Leaping.  Fluttering his wings.  (Guess he figured it was more productive than bawling and bothering any soft-hearted humans who kept cheering him on.)

Even though these pictures are not vivid high-quality shots, what the heck, eh?  I want to show you the SPIRIT of that baby robin.  Don’t you feel like projecting with him, instructing him how to fly?  Don’t you almost feel like YOU can fly, just to get him off the ground?

Hurtle forward

Hurtle forward

I am 95% certain Baby Robin finally flew.  We won’t talk about the other 5% option.  The crying ceased.  (Except for the humans who, by 8:15 p.m. were now crying thinking about the food melting and dripping in the refrigerator-freezers.)

The repair crews showed up and fixed the downed wires by 9:15 p.m.  We waited for the power to resurrect.  Nothing happened!  We went to bed weeping even harder–no, I exaggerate.  We weren’t weeping.  I am using literary license again, trying to compare us to the birds.

Jump!

Jump!

I Could Not Sleep Most of the Night. Maybe dozed for three hours.  Somehow waiting and listening for the hum of the refrigerator, for the purr of electricity.  I could have cried by 6 a.m. when arising and noting the electricity-less state of affairs.

I could have cried at 11 a.m. when returning from work (where the Internet had crashed and the girl’s toilet ceased working) to *still no power*.  My usual high spirits flew off with the bird.

That’s when I discovered that all the neighbors regained their electricity at 9:15 p.m.! What dismal fate!

Don't cry so much, little one.  You'll be airborne soon!

Don’t cry so much, little one. You’ll be airborne soon!

Just before we lost everything in the refrigerator, the nice repairman pulled in the driveway. He discovered that an oak branch shorted our transformer. He offered to cut some branches off Said Oak Tree, thereby hopefully preventing a future repeat.

Twenty one hours later the sweet hum of electricity filled our Little House in the Big Woods.

Baby Robin chirped somewhere in the trees, singing.

Everyone can cease their weeping now, can’t we?

Bleeding heart

Bleeding heart

About Kathy

I live in the middle of the woods in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Next to Lake Superior's cold shores. I love to blog.
This entry was posted in June 2014 and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

25 Responses to Cry, cry, cry

  1. Great story and pictures…. it is scary how hard it is to function without electricity!

  2. Reggie says:

    Oh, how I was cheering for that robin with you, Kathy! “Jump! Fly, little one! Try again! And again! You can do it!”

    And how glad I am that your electricity was restored at last. ’tis not fun to be ‘powerless’, whether related to electricity or not.

  3. Elisa says:

    oh my.

    i don’t think that I know simply how to observe this with you without saying…at least….or at least….(frowns at self a moment)

    I am imagining though, that little bird who needed all of this just to fly at the right time! (reframing or delusion, however does one know 😀 )

  4. Susan D says:

    Oh, such adventures. Goodness! Thank you for sharing. I realized I was holding my breath as I read. So glad things are humming (and flying) again in your wild, wonderful world. I love the capture of the brave little bird!

  5. Carol says:

    It distresses me to know what the survival rate of baby robins is, and makes question why they were made to leave their nests before they can fly. Really poor planning! As to power outages, we have been lucky these past few years to have had no long term outages. Amazing how much we rely on having electricity.

  6. Heather says:

    I am 99% sure you meant to say the robin definitely, 100% certainly flew off. Yep. I mean, you *did* get electricity back, even if it took a while. You’re more like the robin that you thought.
    We got some serious winds yesterday, but only a few very strong gusts. Nothing to knock out power, though our interwebs were unusually slow. Maybe they (the internets) were also fledgling?

  7. Robin says:

    Well told! I’m so glad you got your power back before the food was spoiled, and I’m going to believe the baby robin flew off because I like that story best. 🙂

  8. Kathy – I’ve always admired your ability to wordsmith events into a sing-song story that fascinates and delights your readers; complete with illustrations (photographs) to further engage our attention. I’m so glad you got your electricity back — and just in the nick of time to save everything in the refrigerator and freezer!

  9. I’m hoping with you that this little bird made it, since we got to know it so well. A great telling of a good storm…with all of the frequent consequences. Thanks, Kathy!

  10. Great story with great gnashing of teeth, I willed that baby to fly…forget the electricity…that baby needed to get a move on. Oh, it is good that you did not lose anything in your frig or deep freeze…humans can manage, can’t they? Little Robins, not so good.
    I did not sleep well either….different reason.

    You weave such good stories!

  11. john k says:

    We have a doe-less fawn that seems to be roaming between Brennan’s little forest by the big lake and our yard. I would think by observation, it should still be nursing, but it doesn’t seem depleted. By the grace of a Father’s Day breakfast in the flatland I missed the storm, though something did seem off when the first two vehicles I encountered coming down Broad St. yesterday evening were UPPCO trucks.

  12. dorannrule says:

    Oh you had me crying for the baby bird and for your electricity’s return. I am so glad the tears for both have dried up. We are facing a prolonged heat wave here in VA with “scattered” thunder storms so I will be heading for the closet and hoping for the best. 🙂

  13. Colleen says:

    I so agree with Laurie’s comment. A gift, truly!

    So many heart stopping moments this time of the year as baby birds fledge. We watched two baby falcons taking what looked to be their first flights, making a big commotion as they launched off hotel roof and surprised themselves with their newly found skills. Or at least that’s the story we told ourselves as we watched out our hotel window. Such a treat to see.

  14. That was one heck-of-a-storm. I’m glad that things were not worse- your lives and home are the important things here. And I’m happy that you’re happy to not have lost food in the fridge and freezer.

  15. lisaspiral says:

    Oh the pain of having to clean out the refrigerator and toss out what ought to be perfectly good food. At least it wasn’t too long for the freezer. The last couple of power outages I’ve gone to the gas station across the street and gotten a block of ice for the fridge. There’s nothing wrong with that old ice chest paradigm and chances are the gas station has lost power too. Of course in you little house in the middle of nowhere that’s not really an option either. I’d cry too.

  16. Loved this post, dear Kathy. Poor baby robin. Hope he is well. And I’m so happy to hear your power returned!

    Sorry to have been gone for so long, but I’m delighted you are blogging again. We were without internet for two weeks and then I traveled to the US for nearly another two. So glad to be home!

    Hugs from Ecuador,
    Kathy

  17. Oh Kathy, you had me on the edge of my seat – I, too, hope baby robin flew away and recovered from his ordeal. All creatures are concerned with sustenance and survival, including us, and we never quite know when Mother Nature will interfere with our efforts. So happy your food stores made it through the storm…

  18. Debi says:

    What a nice spring story! So glad your power is back on and your refrigerator is still stocked. We can relate as we, too, live out in the middle of these northern woods. 🙂

  19. That was some storm! While we had a steady downpour here for most of the weekend, at least we didn’t have those devastating winds. Hope the baby bird made it safely to a high branch after losing his home. Glad things remained cold/frozen until your electricity was restored. 🙂

  20. coastalcrone says:

    I am going to believe that the baby robin is OK! It makes one feel so helpless and the mother in us wants to help. Thanks for the recent visit to my blog where I wrote about different birds! Mine are fine.

  21. sonali says:

    In my small village, in Goa, we do experience the same what you have listed here Kathy. And I don’t know why, but I miss that! I miss the electricity-less days until the lightman (so-called locally) repairs the broken poles. Hmm *sigh* well, there’s hardly any “life” in the cities (esp. in India) Talk about the fallen trees, we hardly have any remaining trees in the cities. Pity. I miss the dark days, thunders, lightenings, no electricity for days, all crazy! And reading the books with a candle light……… *teary eyed* Gone are the wonderful days….

  22. I was holding my breath the entire time I read this post. Poor baby robin! Poor you! But it seems that all of you who live near those Big Woods are strong and made of sturdy stock. However, I do have a hard time reading these stories in which I can only hope for a happy ending (for the birdie). For you, I believe there is always a happy ending!

  23. Ally Bean says:

    Kathy, that’s a delightful story. Happy for the baby robin. Happy you have your electric back on, but, having gone through lots of power outages, I cannot say that I’m happy that you lost the contents of your fridge. Still, all’s well that ends well.

  24. Barb says:

    Ahhhhh, I LOVE a happy ending! ;’)

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