Waves of distortion hung low in the air as heat radiated up from the parched earth. A silhouette floated across as the soft crunching of footfalls broke the dead calm. The man squinted his eyes beneath his wide brimmed hat in defense his late afternoon sun. His gaze finds the skeleton of a tree that draws him to it.
Tucked in a bow, he finds a nest, poor and sloppily built. Inside of the nest sat three chicks, freshly molten from their baby fuzz. Nude and hot, they look to the sky with open beaks.
The man reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle and straw. The man grimaces as he feels the weight of it. Shaking the bottle, he heard the splash of remnants. Not much, but some. Dipping the straw into the bottle, he proceeded to quench their thirst, one by one. Each chick was allowed three pulls all the water was gone. The man looked up to see their mother sitting on a perch, staring down at him. He noticed an insect caught in her beak.
Backing away, he nodded to the lady before putting away the bottle and straw. The bird flew to the nest as the man moved on.