
I loved the backyard of my childhood home. My parents took such pride in taking care of the lawn, and the flowers were beautiful. I remember we had daisies, daffodils, roses, geraniums, dahlias and carnations. Many a summer evening I would bring a blanket outside and lie on the grass admiring the flowers and watching the birds. My parents were also avid birdwatchers and had put several birdhouses out in the yard.
One evening when I was sitting outside I kept hearing a weak chirping noise coming from a nearby laurel bush. After a while I decided I would go see what was causing the little noise. When I neared the bush I spied a tiny little blue bird. It looked as though the baby bird may have injured his wing in a fall because the wing drooped a bit. I knew what I had to do; I fetched a clean towel and scooped up the little bird. After conferring with my parents we decided we would nurse the bird back to health. By the end of that summer the bluebird was as good as new. We let him go on Labor Day. The whole experience was so beneficial to me that I still think of it whenever I look at the birdhouses in my own backyard.
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