Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Feathers of a Bird

Yesterday as I was working in the office, I heard a loud thump against the kitchen window. As Bubba and I peered out the screen of the sliding glass door we discovered the small, yellow and gray victim on the deck. He was lying on his back with his neck twisted around so that his head was underneath one shoulder facing his tail. Not a pretty sight. His eyes were open and his mouth was agape. He was breathing rapidly and blinking so I knew he was still alive though I suspected that his neck was broken. Bubba suspected that he might actually be able to catch this one if given the chance. He was hunkered down on his haunches doing the cat twitter and twitch. I moved Bubba aside with my foot and went out to assess the victim.
As I picked up the bird he moved his head back to its anatomic position revealing that at least, his neck wasn't broken. I carried him to a shaded spot on the deck and found something shallow and flat to set him in. He didn't try to struggle or fly but made an attempt to grasp my fingers with his toes. It seemed his legs were okay too yet when I set him down he didn't want to use his left leg equally. I filled up jar lid with water and set it in front of him. I straightened the long feathers of his right wing and lay them along his side parallel to the left wing. I couldn't tell if it was broken but he didn't seem any more distressed when I smoothed it. The whole time he sat hunched there, facing me, blinking and holding his beak wide open. I let a couple of drops of water roll off my finger and into his beak. He had a tiny feather stuck to the corner of his right eye. I gently pulled it away. He had another matted to the tip of his beak, I removed it also. I tried to comfort him a bit (he never seemed less than terrified or stunned), and realized there was nothing more I could do so I went back to work. About 45 minutes later he had gone. I assume he flew off because there was no sign of him or a struggle.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

How Zen am I?


I spotted a wasp in the front window as I was checking to see if the mail came yet. No, he wasn't on the outside, he was on the inside. It must be the heat, but he didn't fly off even though I was very close before I noticed him. Too close. I am terrified of flying stinging objects. I'm not allergic, the sting just hurts.
I have no problem catching spiders and releasing them outside. I do stay away from black widows though. They have never bitten me that I am aware of. But, bees and wasps are different. They're fast and I've seen them come after me with intent. I once had a bee chase me down the shore at a lake. I remember one of my cousins (perhaps) from Ohio having to be whisked off to the hospital because he had stepped in a nest or hive of some sort, hornets maybe, that was on the ground! When out riding horses as a teen, I had a bee fly down the front of my shirt and sting me twice. Maybe it was two bees, all I know is that I had two welts that burned for hours. To this day my instinct is to grasp the front of my shirt collar and pull it tightly closed whenever I see or hear flying stinging objects.
So, how Zen have I become that today, after spotting this wasp lazily strolling along the window, I found a wide mouthed jar in the kitchen, a stiff piece of paper from the junk mail pile, gently trapped him against the window, slid the paper over the opening and carried him outside to be released?
photo credit