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A bird in the hand and random stuff

What's crackin', friends.

No blogging for the past week - but then you know this, if you've been visiting Burnettiquette - 'cause it's been a roller coaster of wacky stuff that I'll share with you another time.

In the mean time I've been swamped chasing and writing stories and keeping house: On Friday it was the story of a local minister and school headmaster who pleaded guilty to stalking a teenage girl in another state.

Over the weekend, it was running into the backyard 'cause I heard Mrs. B frantically shooing the dog away from something. When I got outside she showed me two baby Morning Doves shivering at the foot of a palm tree. They had fallen from their nest, which was dangling by a thread from a broken palm frond and literally unraveling.

Naturally, Mrs. B demanded I do something. But since my bird-whispering is a little rusty I wasn't sure what to do. Five minutes later though, Mrs. B had someone in nearby forrestry station on the phone, and that person told her to build a makeshift nest and put the birds back in the tree, and if we did that quickly enough the mother would come back to them. This totally crushed the myth I'd learned in Cub Scouts that if you picked up a fallen baby bird, the mom would abandon it 'cause it had human "scent" on it.

Anyway, Mrs. B gathered the nest and some other twigs and dried grass and so on and put them all in a little cardboard box. I grabbed the extension ladder, carried the box to the top of the tree and strapped it around the trunk and secured it on top of a little branch of berries. And then she handed each of the birds up to me.

Sure enough, within a couple of hours the mom returned. And she's been nursing the babies ever since. Very cool to see that happy ending. It won't win me any builder's awards. But I'm pretty damned proud of that cardboard bird's nest...that will probably get soggy just as soon as it rains again. Hope those birds learn to fly soon. Rainy season is about to start.

Today, it's wrapping up an article that will introduce a new historical series we're about to launch in the Miami Herald and on MiamiHerald.com.

Tomorrow, it'll be planning for a weekend of interviewing, filming, and sparring with former WBO heavyweight boxing champ Shannon Briggs, who is training for his comeback fight and itching to share the humbling life lessons - ups and downs - that he's learned in and out of the ring. That's right. I said sparring. And I have no intention of getting knocked out. I'll run before I let that happen.

Speaking of, I have to run now.

Till next time.

PS: Follow me at http://twitter.com/jamesburnett.


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you may not be a great builder - but you charmed a few bird watchers.
I hope they don't get washed out, too.

Yes - that is a myth about the birds picking up your scent.

Mrs. B was so quick thinking to call the forestry station.

James B.

Thanks, Pamela. Even though I grumbled at Mrs. B for dragging me away from my computer, it felt good.

I read somewhere after that - some kind of bird enthusiasts Web site - that Mourning Doves appear to take great care in building their nests, but they're actually among the flimsiest nests in the bird world.

Yes, Mrs. B is quick on her feet. Gotta give it to her!


Yay for saving the baby birds!

... and here a hope that you don't have to run, but if you need to, that you run like the wind :P


You and Mrs. B. have won the Monty Parker Good Deed and Green Award this week. Weel done, I am so proud of you, again.

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