The wonder of holding a wild part of nature knowing it will go on and we will never see nor know its story again. The tenderness watching French Husband care for something so small and yet so powerful. The Black Swift that French Husband found a few days ago struggling to fly, flapping without success, had fallen from its nest. We took it home, put it in a large open cardboard box and then read all we could about the Black Swift online. 

Today while feeding the Black Swift it attempted to fly, on the third try it went over the wall, then over the roof and away into only it knows where. To be sure that it didn't land on another roof top (in the center of French villages most roofs are connected) I went up stairs and looked out our top window, and French Husband went onto the garden shed roof and looked into other people's yards, then walked around the street outside to be sure that the Black Swift was on its way.

Fly on little Wonder!