I’m not alone, I’d guess, in searching for signs of inspiration these days: Anything to lift the spirit and provide serenity, hope and assurance in this time of fear, uncertainty and isolation.

Nature’s a good place to look, right?

Yes and no.

Our routine, these stay-at-home days, is to go for a walk, usually in the evening just before sunset. Judy and I walk down the golf course in front of our Sun City Center house, making a loop that covers six golf holes. It’s about a mile and a half and we do it in less than an hour.

One stop on our way has been to see the mother Sandhill Crane sitting on her nest on a small island in a pond just off of the Hole 7 fairway. We first noticed her nine days ago. Since then she’s been sitting patiently, waiting. We saw no mate until yesterday.

Yesterday we took our walk in the morning, and sure enough, around 10 AM, there were three where before we only saw one: Mom, Dad (he finally showed up) and a baby not much bigger than a softball. Mom and Dad pecked away looking for bugs and slugs to eat. Baby followed their lead looking for bugs of his own.

One egg remained in the nest, unhatched. Mom would occasionally sit back on the nest but only for a few seconds. Hope dies slowly, even for this mother crane.

That’s great – the kind of spirit-lifter I’ve been looking for. What a great family! Do birds feel pride and love when they give birth? Maybe not, but those birds fooled me. And the baby’s attraction to and trust in her parents was obvious.

Then, the real miracle. As we watched the family set out on its first venture off the island to dry land and the wild world beyond. First one and then the other parent waded into the shallow water. Baby didn’t hesitate. With legs too short for wading, he paddled along with Mom and Dad, up the bank of the pond and away they went down the fairway, pecking the ground as they went.

Joyous feeling: complete. There is hope in this world after all!

Until today.

We returned to the nest this evening to find Mom and Dad back on the nesting island.

Alone. No baby in sight.

Mom and Dad seemed to search the immediate area looking for their offspring. Then they broke into what I took to be a mating ritual, leaping, one after the other, into the air and squawking bird calls to each other. Or was this an expression of grief and wishes that they could start all over again so as to make it all better?

Again, who knows what flows through the mind of a bird with such a tiny brain. But sadness and disappointment were, to me, clearly evident in their behavior and are emotions that we share with them.

Oh well, one might say. That’s nature. But in this case, it wasn’t. A near-by homeowner came out to tell us that the baby was killed by a dog, running off leash, yesterday afternoon, less than eight hours after leaving the nest. The dog was accompanied by its owners who rode in a golf cart while their dog, illegally, ran loose. Mom and Dad put up a fight, the man said, but to no avail.

So now to sadness and disappointment add anger. Sure, the baby might not have survived against natural predators. But to lose out to irresponsible pet owners is too much, for me at least, to bear.

And the egg remaining in the nest? It’s gone, eaten by an alligator sometime today, the homeowner told us.

We return you now to Covid-19, already in progress.

Update: April 2: The nest has been repurposed as a tanning salon for the neighborhood baby ‘gator. Digesting his egg, no doubt. Nature moves on.