Broken birds and cosmic repair

Listen now (6 min) | I was driving our car down CA 24-E, a tiny squeak barely perceptible from the backseat, when it occurred to me: I honestly didn’t think I was this kind of person, and suddenly, here I am. This kind of person, in this case, is the kind of person who finds a tiny, squeaking animal who appears to be abandoned and spends the next 24 hours completely subsumed with figuring out how to rescue it. I’m talking tiny pipettes full of sugar water, desperately googling about desired bird temperatures, and a roller coaster of emotions—all for a newly hatched quail.

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