The Savagery of Nature

This is more observational than possessing an actual point (I know, "what's new about that?" Words hurt, smarty-pants and sometimes sting). I was in my office this past Sunday attempting to get ahead on a project I've been fitfully working on for awhile but as closing time nears and I worry about hearing 'last call,' I'd like to get it finished or at least leave it in decent enough shape so that someone coming along doesn't mistake it for the dog's breakfast. 

Leaving the building shortly after noon I watched two blue jays battling over what at first I thought was a strip of roofing tar paper, or the like, on the sidewalk about fifteen feet away from the front door. As I approached, the birds fled (I like to think it's my superpower being able to frighten birds. Since it's worked for over six and a half decades, change my mind), dropping the tar paper into the grass as they flew away. 

Roofing tar paper, not an actual baby bat

I thought there might be a light breeze as the tar paper kept flipping but a check of the tree leaves and the absence of their movement caused me to look closer. The tar paper was, in fact, a small, I guess baby, bat with outstretched wings, struggling to flip itself over and not be at its most vulnerable on its back.

Perhaps it fell out of the tree (I have no idea where bats live and am hoping they have no knowledge of my domicile's location either) and the blue jays were fighting over which of them would make a meal of the little guy (or gal). The bat was no bigger than my thumb and was thrashing around attempting to defend itself. Since to my understanding bats eat bugs and fruit while blue jays eat anything that doesn't eat them, the bat was at a severe tactical disadvantage.

It was so young/small the only noise I could hear was a barely audible (to me) high piercing squeaky sound (maybe to another bat, it sounded more like Pavarotti). I wanted to help the bat but didn't trust myself or it enough to grab it with my bare hand by a wing (it was Sunday so prayers were sold separately) and place it under one of the ornamental shrubs, someone, thousands of years ago thought would look nice bordering the building (they were utterly wrong by the way).

I suspect to the bat, I was no different than the blue jays though from a distance I more closely resemble Ozzy Osbourne (we both come from a long line of mumblers). Actually, I interviewed Ozzy a long time ago and a long time after he bit the head off a bat so I found a small branch with some other smaller branches forming a near-fork shape and used that to lift the bat off the ground and carry it to one of the bushes where I placed it as deeply in the center, under the bush in the hopes of protecting it from the birds, as possible. 

Having done my good deed for the year (I try not to overexert myself) I headed home and when I returned on Monday morning, the short branch was still under the bush, but the bat was gone. I told myself he flew away and have decided that's the version of this story I want to tell. And if you have a different idea, you are wrong. And that's all I have to say about that. 
-bill kenny