“Are the sausages ready?” Rodney bounded out the back door to the fire ring where Father was guarding their dinner.
“Hold it!” Father answered. “I’ve only put the sausages on the grill a few minutes ago.”
Rodney fidgeted around the fire, eyeing the sausages on the open grill. The edges of the juicy, raw meat were beginning to crisp slightly.
Moments later Joanna came skipping around the house, asking, “When will the sausages be ready?”
“Father just started them,” Rodney answered.
“Mother, may we start with marshmallows while Father roasts the sausages?” Joanna asked, toying with the package on the picnic table.
Mother looked up from her reading with a slight smile and asked, “Do we start with dessert when we eat in the kitchen?”
“No-o-o,” Joanna sighed.
“Run along and play catch for awhile,” Father suggested. “It will take some time yet to get these fully roasted.”
When Joanna found the ball, she tossed it slowly from hand to hand as she returned to Rodney. Catch was not exciting when she was hungry for sausages.
Father leaned back in his reclining lawn chair. Cheep! Chitter, chitter. Cheep!
“What do I hear?” Father peered up through the leaves.
Who-oo-osh! Cheep! Cheep! Chitter, chitter, chitter, cheep!
Father rose from his chair. Still peering up, he stepped around, searching for a better view.
“Come look at this,” Father called.
“What do you see?” Rodney bounded to Father’s side.
“I see an orange—it’s an oriole!” Joanna said.
“I see it now too!” Rodney cheered. “What is it doing on that ball of dead grass?”
“Do you hear what I hear?” Father asked. “Be quiet!”
Cheep! Chitter, chitter, chitter. Cheep! Cheep!
“Is that ball of grass a nest?” Rodney asked.
“Yes!” Joanna said. “Something is sticking out—that’s baby birds! The oriole is feeding its babies!”
“Here comes another oriole!” Rodney said. “That is the father and mother bird! They are feeding their babies! How do they make the nest? I thought nests are made on top of a branch.”
“It is amazing,” Father said. “They hang those thready grasses over tree twigs and bind them together into a swinging treehouse.”
Joanna giggled.
“If the twig breaks, then the house falls.” Rodney worried.
“True,” Father answered. “Yet, fact is, green wood does not break easily. It will bend a long way and swing back and forth in the wind.”
“But that twig looks brown to me.” Rodney was puzzled.
Father chuckled. “Yes, the twig is brown in color, but green wood means wood that is still alive and growing. If a twig has green leaves, it is still alive, and bending and swinging will only make it grow stronger. The oriole will choose a leafy twig for his nest so the babies are hidden. A leafy twig will be green wood, and the nest is safe.”
“There comes the parent bird again!” Joanna said.
Father knelt by the fire ring and carefully turned the sausages on the grill.
“Now the two parents are feeding babies at the same time!” Rodney exclaimed.
“I see three baby beaks poking out of the nest,” Joanna said. “They cannot all eat at once because the parent has to feed them.”
“The sausages are ready,” Father said.
“There goes a parent bird!” said Rodney.
“They have to catch more food for the babies.” Joanna giggled.
“Your dinner is ready,” Father said.
“Here they come again!” Rodney exclaimed.
“Rodney! Joanna! Do you want dinner too?” Father asked.
“Is it ready?” Joanna asked.
“Are the sausages roasted?” Rodney asked.
“I’ve told you twice already,” Father grinned. “When I started the roasting, you couldn’t wait to eat. Now the sausages are ready, and you can’t take time to eat!”
“Yes, we can!” the two chorused.
“The baby birds will not fly away today. You can watch them again later. Come now,” Father said.
Rodney and Joanna came. Mother opened the last condiment cap and stepped to the family circle around the fire.