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young one climbed onto the edge of the nest, stretched his wings and looked around. There he remained for what seemed a long time to me.
Abruptly the young bird left the nest rim and made his first flight into the woods. When he landed on the woods floor, about 30 yards from the nest, the female appeared and fed him.
I disassembled my camera, telephoto lens and tripod and climbed out of the blind which I would take down later. As I happily trudged toward home through the golden light of a July twilight, I heard the flutelike notes of the wood thrush. The song — cool, measured and serene — drifted down through the trees. I was reasonably sure I had, with my camera, recorded the activities of the wood thrush family. At the time, however, I was more satisfied with knowing all four fledgling thrushes were safe and well-fed for the July night.
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