Showing posts with label Prose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prose. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Sialia currucoides






She sat on the ground outside my hermitage window, a mountain bluebird, dressed in grays and cobalt blue.  She was still, stunned, and deservedly so - the thud that drew me to the window, along with the cluster of tiny silver feathers plastered on the glass, were evidence that she at the very least had to be seeing stars.  Slowly she turned her head down and to the left - an awkward, un-birdlike movement.  I saw no right eye, just a sliver of a line where it used to be.  No wonder she crashed.  A one-eyed bird wouldn't have the proper depth perception.  Or maybe her eye was healthy until the crash.  I had visions of it now, shoved back into her skull.  Either way, can a one-eyed bird survive long in this wild world?

I know that a stunned bird can eventually come to - I once saw one fly away, hours after hitting a window.  I told this beautiful bird that I would stay with her as long as it took, but I would do it with glass between us so as not to increase her stress.  We sat in silence and stillness; I called in all that healed from earth and sky, and she... well, I don't know what she was doing, but she appeared to be drawn inward, never complaining to her friends as they came and went around her.

Eventually, she turned her head again, and I saw that her right eye was open.  It looked fine, but I had no way of knowing if it had sight.  About an hour after the gut-sinking thud that initially drew me to her, she took off, flying only a few feet into the nearest tree.  I whooped and hollered, as happy as I had been the day my daughter took her first steps. 

In the pine tree, she sat completely still, while her feathered friends flitted between branches.  I watched until she flew from the tree, and I lost sight of her.

Two years ago, I sat in this same hermitage watching mountain bluebirds, pine siskins, and sparrows drink and bathe in the water bowl outside the window.   Feeling stunned after the recent deaths of my dad and my beloved dog, Buddha, along with the cancer diagnosis of my husband, I spent hours each day watching the birds.  They stayed with me as I recovered from my crash into a wall of grief.  It felt good to now be able to offer a little in return.

2014 Carol Barrow