I often walk in the forest because it brings me a sense of peace — the soft crunch of leaves, the birdsong, and the way the light filters gently through the trees. I follow the same paths week after week, never expecting more than the usual sights of wildlife or damaged branches. But that morning, a vivid yellow pile just off the trail caught my attention. At first, I thought it was something harmless, maybe toys or mushrooms. When the mound suddenly moved and released faint cries, I realized it was a cluster of newborn chicks—tiny, weak, and clearly abandoned.

Shocked, I called the police and the nearest animal shelter, hoping there was still time to help them. The shelter staff arrived quickly and gathered the trembling birds, many of them fragile but still alive. Their reaction made it clear how unusual and heartbreaking the situation was. Most of the chicks eventually recovered, yet the memory of finding them still stays with me every time I walk that trail.