Just as I sat down to write this morning — to yet again try to write something meaningful and insightful, that might somehow make a dent in the current wall of confusion — I was startled by a loud “thump” against my window. I recognized the sound immediately, even if it never fails to surprise me. A bird had smacked into my window. Usually, it’s a quail, which run thick in my neighborhood, at the edge of the suburban/rural interface. But this one wasn’t a quail. It was a different kind of bird that I couldn’t quite identify, although it looked familiar enough. Some kind of warbler or vireo, perhaps? I wish I knew birds and words and metaphors so much better than I do.
What a shitty fate it must be, no? — to one minute be flapping hard toward what appears to be open sky, only to be knocked senseless the next, out of the blue, by a cold, impenetrable facade.
I never know quite what to do when this happens. Sometimes, they die instantly. Other times, slowly, but surely. Now and again, though, one somehow manages to absorb the blow, gather itself, and again resume flight.
The worst part, for me, is the powerlessness. I feel powerless watching birds die. So, too, do my daughters, although that doesn’t keep them from trying to help — from building soft nests and filling cups of water and trying to make them comfortable, warm and safe. It’s wide-eyed and innocent and childishly naive, but a beautiful thing, nonetheless. As beautiful a thing as there is, really.
When I looked out my window, I saw the bird was still alive, although it didn’t look good. It was just sitting there, dazed, breathing heavily. It sat like that for some time, beak open, panting — barely moving, eyes half-closed. Powerless, I watched, then turned my head, not wanting to watch. It’s a hell of thing, watching a bird die.
But on this day, for whatever reason, I decided I wasn’t going to let this one die, at least without some small effort on my part, however feeble, to keep it alive. Not knowing what to do, I did what my daughters would have done. I took the bird some mealworms and a few scratch grains, normally reserved for my chickens. I brought her a small dish of water. I tried soothing her, putting aside my adult sense of foolishness, and even gave her a gentle stroke. Then I left her alone to watch from my window, not wanting to disturb her any further.
Eventually, she grew so still that I feared she had died standing up. I went out a second time, feeling an inexplicable twinge of desperation, thinking, perhaps, that I needed to keep her awake. I again sat next to her, trying to coax her to take a worm. I whistled my best birdsong. I tried giving her a second gentle stroke. And this time, she snapped awake, took flight, and flew into a nearby branch.
She stayed on that branch for some time, not really moving, and I wondered if she was indeed going to make it. After checking on her numerous times, eventually, I saw that the branch was empty. She had flown away, just like that, which is exactly what I needed to see on a day, on a week, at a time like this.
As always, thanks for reading, and my best to all. – T
Such a sweet post, Tim. But I have to admit, I kept reading, expected it to turn into a metaphor for this past week. Here’s the sentence that got me going: “What a shitty fate it must be, no? — to one minute be flapping hard toward what appears to be open sky, only to be knocked senseless the next, out of the blue, by a cold, impenetrable facade.” Now, doesn’t that fit?
It does, Janet, and I intended it to . . . although I elected not to drive the metaphor home very forcefully in this piece, or to make it too overtly political. I hope I didn’t throw out parts of the baby with the bath. I’m glad you enjoyed the story 🙂
Here’s hoping we all wind up recovering enough to fly back home.
We’re happy for ya, Tim! This is a time when one can certainly use a nice surprise!! That little bird looked a bit like a Robin, but I don’t see many of those out here in the desert, and you notice them more in the spring for some reason. I also have noticed quite often the little bums smashing into a window, both back East and out here in Boiseeeee, but most times have seen them fly away after a brief period in recovery. Anyway, old Buster and I are glad your little guy was able to get up, brush himself off, and resume his flight.
We also enjoyed your “repost” of Maggie Smith’s “Good Bones,” and think your offer to post pieces by others who don’t happen to have a blog is a good idea.
Perhaps soon is a good time for us to have that little lunch down at the Roosevelt Market. Buster and I don’t have any specific plans yet for the two weeks after this one, except for Thanksgiving, so give a holler if you wish, and we can make a date.
Thanks, Walt, for the feedback, and for reading through these posts. Maggie Smith’s poem really knocked me out, so I’m particularly glad you caught that one. This strikes me as a time where verse may well surpass prose in its ability to get to the heart of matters. I only wish I possessed such talent!
I agree that this would be a good time for our meet-up. I’ll check the calendar and follow up with you soon. Thanks again! – T
Thanks, Tim, please give me a couple possible dates, in case I start getting booked.
Yes, Poetry is wonderful for succinct expression. I have no talent for it either, nor for much of anything else, but Buster and I enjoy scribbling just the same.
I’ve enjoyed your “scribbling” quite a bit this election season. I hope you’ll keep at it. Hard to believe Thanksgiving is next week. I’ll be out of town most of that time. Are you free this Wednesday, the 16th? I unfortunately have noon commitments tomorrow, Thursday, and Friday. Of course, after the holiday would work, too, as I should be largely freed up. Thanks, T
Yo, Tim,
Please forgive my lapse, just noted your message from the 14th, and here it is the 16th already, and Buster and I are totally unready! Can we schedule something after the holiday? Hope you have a great Thanksgiving! walt and Bus.
No problem, Walt. I could do the Friday after Thanksgiving (the 25th), or most any day the following week. Let me know if any of those work. Thanks! – T