Author: TomsWrite

A woman delivering groceries in the rain stopped for a big black and white bird dragging itself across a parking lot, and everyone standing around it was sure both its legs were broken, until a stranger on the phone asked her one question.
“Is the ground wet?”
Deb Lindqvist is 54. She lives in St. Cloud, Minnesota.
For 26 years she worked at a printing plant on the edge of town. In August 2024, the plant closed. Ninety one people lost their jobs in one afternoon.
Deb sent out applications every morning. Most never got an answer.
So in the evenings she delivered groceries through an app on her phone. Bags in the back seat, a phone clipped to the dashboard, six or seven dollars a trip.
She didn’t tell many people. She said she felt like she’d gone from somebody who knew exactly what she was doing to somebody who didn’t know where she was supposed to be.
On Tuesday, the 29th of October, it rained all evening. Hard, cold rain, the kind that comes before the first snow.
At about 10:40 p.m., she was loading her last order outside a grocery store on the east side of town.
That’s when she saw a group of people standing in a circle in the middle of the parking lot.
In the middle of the circle, on the wet asphalt, was a bird.
It was big. Bigger than a duck. Black head, a sharp grey beak, a white chest and a black back covered in tiny white squares.
It was trying to move. It pushed itself forward on its belly, flapped, and fell flat again.
A teenager was filming it. A man in a store vest said it must have been hit by a car. Somebody else said its legs were broken.
A woman brought a plastic bowl of water and set it down by the bird’s face. It didn’t drink.
Two men tried to nudge it with a shopping cart toward the grass strip by the road. The bird panicked, flapped hard, and slid across the puddles into a parking space.
Deb said it was the most helpless thing she had ever seen.
She called animal control. Closed until morning.
She called the police non emergency line. They gave her the number for a wildlife rehab center.
A volunteer called back ten minutes later. His name was Joel. He’s 47 and he has driven injured birds around central Minnesota for 15 years.
Deb described it. Joel listened.
Then he asked, “Is the ground wet?”
She looked at the parking lot. Rain was still coming down. Every space was shining under the yellow lights.
“Like a lake,” she said.
“That’s a loon,” Joel said. “And I don’t think its legs are broken.”
He explained.
Loons spend almost their whole lives on water. Their legs are set so far back on their bodies that they can’t walk on land. On the ground, all they can do is push themselves along on their bellies.
And they can’t take off from land at all. A loon needs a long run across open water, sometimes hundreds of feet, to get into the air.
At the end of October, loons fly south at night. In heavy rain, from high up, a wet parking lot under streetlights looks exactly like water.
“It came down to land on a lake,” Joel said. “It found out too late it was concrete.”
It wasn’t hurt. It was stranded.
Joel told her exactly what to do. Don’t put it in water. Don’t let anyone grab it. Keep your face away from the beak, because loons stab.
Deb took the beach towel she kept in her trunk. She dropped it over the bird, slid her hands underneath, and lifted it into an empty box from the store.
It was heavier than she expected. About ten pounds. It went completely still in the dark.
She kept the box on her passenger seat with the heater on low and waited 40 minutes for Joel.
The teenager who had been filming asked if he could wait too. He stood under the store awning the whole time.
When Joel arrived, he looked in the box with a flashlight and smiled.
“Young one,” he said. “Born this summer. Probably its first trip south.”
He took the loon to the rehab center overnight. A vet checked it. No broken bones. No lead in its blood. Just a sore chest and a few scraped feathers.
The next afternoon, Joel called Deb and asked if she wanted to come to the release.
She almost said no. She had deliveries.
She went anyway.
They drove to a big lake north of town. Grey water, bare trees, nobody else around.
Joel set the box at the edge of the water and opened it.
The loon sat still for a few seconds. Then it slid out, pushed into the lake, and was suddenly a completely different animal.
It dived. It came up 30 feet away. It shook its head and called, a long, low sound across the water.
Then it turned, ran across the surface with its wings beating, ran and ran, and lifted off.
Deb said she didn’t realize she was crying until Joel handed her a tissue.
“People always think they’re broken,” Joel told her. “They’re not broken. They’re just somewhere they can’t take off from.”
Deb drove home without turning the radio on.
She still delivers groceries. She’s also started volunteering for the rehab center on her nights off, driving birds to the vet and to lakes.
In January, she got a job in the office of a school district. She starts work at seven every morning.
She kept the beach towel in her trunk.
“Just in case it rains,” she says.
Sometimes nothing is wrong with you. You just landed somewhere that only looked like the right place.

Click to view the video: https://x.com/Gulicio1/status/2113604209623040435?s=20