The world is filled with miracles and overflowing with beauty. Each living being on this Earth is a wonder. We humans, drift about, often blind to the life that thrives around us. We become so caught up in our daily trials...whether it be work, family, or financial issues...we all have a lot on out plates. We become disconnected from the beautiful world in which we live. Sometimes, the universe intervenes, and reminds us of the wondrous miracles that surround us.
These miracles can come in all shapes and sizes. I watch my garden grow with joy and pride, knowing I planted them from seeds. I gather strength and inspiration from trees, as they reach their limbs towards the heavens, and their roots deep into the earth. We should ground ourselves deeply, and reach just as high. (It's no wonder tree pose is my favorite yoga pose. Perhaps a topic for another day? Ah! Don't you love when the gears start really turning?) Among this miracle and that miracle...some truly stand out. They shape you, change you. Change your heart....or rather, they open your heart.
Monday Evening: The first thing I saw was a shock of yellow, which, in that same instant began to move. Startled by the sudden movement, I jumped back and looked down. It was a baby bird, fallen from it's nest. (I later figured out that the nest seemed to have been abandoned.) His little mouth, (the brilliant yellow of a daffodil) was agape and asking for food as he stretched his neck as high as he could.
My father has a way with animals. They trust him. He rescued a praying mantis from Halloween Spiderwebs. He saved a bird that flew into our window. He's like the protector of all the little guys who can't protect themselves. A superhero version of Snow White. He hurried over, scooped the little bird up and carried him across the street to our home. We brought him into the yard, where we dug up some worms for food and checked to see if he was injured. The little guy was shaken, but OK. So, we build a make-shift nest for him out of dead leaves and grass in a shoebox and after about an hour in our care, we brought him back to the tree we found him next to, and watched from a safe distance to see if Mama Bird would show up.
Night fell, and there was still no Mama Bird.
The only thing we could do was take him in for the night to keep him out of harms way, and find a wildlife rehab center in the morning to nurse him back to health. After a few more bites of mushed up earthworms, we tucked him away in his little Nine West Nest, placed a hot water bottle next to his box in our garage to keep him warm and we said goodnight, knowing that he might not make it to morning. That night, I barely slept. All I could think of was his little chirp, and all I could see was his sweet face, reaching for food.
The sun crept through my window, and I woke with a start. 5:27. My brother and I walked to the garage, afraid of what we might find. But when we opened the door, we were greeted by a cheery little chirp! "He made it! He's alive!" We couldn't believe it. But the most incredible moment, was when my Dad walked into the room. The bird saw him, and began to clamber out of his box with outstretched wings and a chirp so energetic that I thought all of the neighborhood birds would be outside our window.
"No, no, Junior. That's the kind of behavior that got you in trouble in the first place."
With a chirp of defiance, he continued to climb out of the Nine West Nest, into my Dad's palm, nuzzled up and fell asleep. It wasn't until we tried to put him back in the little nest that he started up again. He climbed back up to my Dad's hands, and tried to stand as he flapped his tiny, not-quite-fully-developed wings. After a few attempts, he finally decided to stay in the nest and we began to take care of him. We fed him mashed worms from an eyedropper and contacted all of the wildlife rehab centers we could find in our area. Some weren't open, some weren't accepting animals at the time.
Dad would call every 2 hours or so: "How's Junior?" Apparently, our little friend had a name.
Throughout the day, he was fine. Eating, chirping, and doing a little poop dance every time he made. (He wiggles his butt, fluffs his tail stretches aaaaand poop! It's quite possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. Yes, this baby bird turned pooping into an "Awww!" moment.)
The day went on. Suddenly it was Night #2 that Junior would be in our care, and we still hadn't found somewhere to take him in. So, last night we tucked him away the same way we did the night before. Hot water bottle, and all.
My alarm was set for 6:00 AM this morning, so I could get up and feed Junior. My brother and I went to the garage, he gingerly lifted the box and put it back down right away. He turned to me.
"He didn't make it." My heart dropped. The helpless little bird, fighter that he was, didn't make it through his second night.
And suddenly I was eight years old again, standing next to my father as he buried my hamster in the backyard. Fifteen years later, we dug a small hole for Junior's Nine West Nest (which we had covered and sealed), and I stood beside my parents and brother as we placed him into the Earth. In accordance to the Jewish Tradition, we each took a turn at covering the small grave. In my mind, that act is representative of facing the loss...of saying goodbye. As we buried him, I realized that somehow, in just one day, this spunky little bird had reached into my heart and made a place for himself there.
I truly believe that everything that happens, happens for a reason.
It was a miracle that the little bird survived his fall.
It was a miracle that we found him, instead of the neighborhood cat.
It was a miracle that he survived the first night, and the entire next day.
The biggest miracle, I think, was how he opened our hearts to love. To the beauty of the world, and reminded us all what is truly important.
As you go about your day, take a few minutes to pause and reflect on the miracles that surround us. Whether it be the chirping birds as they soar with grace, or a sturdy tree swaying in the wind...open your hearts to the beauty around you. Take it in, and allow yourself to be a part of it. Reconnect. Let go of the concerns that clutter you, and welcome the beauty of the world...the beauty of life.
^Nestled in his Nine West Nest ^
In my Dad's hand, dozing. He doesn't want the worm!
"FEED ME!"If you ever come across a baby bird fallen from it's nest, PLEASE, do what the pro's say. Unfortunately, I did not know this information before we found him.
http://www.volunteersforwildlife.org/featherless-baby-bird/
http://www.volunteersforwildlife.org/storage/Copy%20of%20Baby%20Season%20Handout%20Insert%20with%20Newsletter.pdf
Have a beautiful day, everyone.
