I put the quail babies in a box with a towel for a lid and drove them up the street. I set them free in the power line at the top of the hill. The power line is buffeted on the left by a stand of pines which runs the length of a nice hay field. The area is far from any domestic cats and has minimal human contact.

 It was difficult to say goodbye. But they have wings and are ready to fledge. Several will fly today for the first time in their hopefully long lives. All of them will run and graze and touch the earth, at least.

It was kind of moving to let them go. I thought about keeping two breeding pairs and one day I still might. I understand how to raise quail now, and I see the possibilities. But I let them all go. A bunch of them will die. If they all make it a whole day, that would be lovely. If any live to reproduce, I'll consider the project a wild success. (Sorry for the pun.) Quail are prolific because of their naturally high mortality. And these are at the obvious disadvantage of all orphans. But they are strong and in a great habitat.

 I stood here and listened to them call each other. The woods filled with their tiny chorus. My goal is to walk past this area one day and hear Bobwhite sing his name. This is possible.

 Good great luck to you, dear tiny brave little ones. We are grateful for getting to know you.