I wish you could have been here when it happened, this most crazy of occurrences. I was standing in the kitchen chopping dill when I turned to open the refrigerator door. In the middle of that movement I caught an impossible glimpse of a good-size feather falling just outside the big screen porch. And then some small downy feathers, feathers that attached briefly to the screen and then, blown by the wind, lifted off again to continue their slow descent to the brick patio below, the site just in front of the bluebird nest.

(How is it even possible that I was right there, and that I turned to see those feathers, right at that very moment? Ordinarily I would have found the whole thing miraculous, a message to me from God and the universe. But considering all the animal kingdom drama of late, and my nerves, “miracle” is not the thought that came to mind.)

I ran for my shoes and down the stairs toward that nest, terrified at what I would find.

Through the big window, the birdhouse appeared undisturbed. And so for the second day in a row, I held my breath and opened the door to step outside. Right there in front of me was this.

I couldn’t see the babies, as the nest is tucked into the dark cavity of the decorative birdhouse. But the Mama did not come flying out (as she typically does when I come near the nest). My heart started to beat faster.

I walked into the yard.

Another and another and another. I gathered them all.

Could they be bluebird feathers? I prayed not. I thought not, as large (and not blue) as they were. But still I was crazy with worry.

I walked over to the birdhouse and put my iPhone to the opening. I snapped three or four shots with the flash on.

When I looked at the camera roll, I rejoiced!

There was Mama, safe and sound. Hooray!

Surely that means the babies are fine. Right?

Right.

And what about all those feathers?

I walked around the yard looking for clues. I noticed two morning doves sitting uncharacteristically on the pitched roof of our house. I wonder if they have a nest up there, and if, perhaps, the hawk paid it a visit. It makes me very sad.

Nevertheless. This is Day 2 for our newborn bluebird chicks, and all in all,

All is well.