Baby wrens were born in the garage. I watched them and sang to them many days. Finally, they fledged from their nest but two of them didn’t leave the garage. For several days, they awkwardly flapped around, too afraid or weak to venture out of their place of safety. I could hear the mother or father constantly calling for them to come out into the world. I watched the parents feed them and coax them. They were tireless in their attempts. I urged the birds on from afar. I sang to them, did reiki for them, hoped for them. After several days, I began to worry that something might be wrong. I desperately wanted them to live. It almost seemed that I needed them to live. Why did I care so much?
It was the same with the baby cliff swallows at Daddy’s house. They built a nest on his front porch, under the eave. Daddy let them stay, even though they made such a mess. He seemed as intrigued as I was. Soon they started perching on the eave but didn’t fly away. I decided to photograph them there, as they didn’t seem to mind my presence. I was careful to turn off the flash so as not to startle them but when I pressed the shutter they all leapt from their perch. I was the one startled! I could hear Daddy inside screech with delight as they flew. I rushed in to help Daddy down the stairs. Together we watched the babies fly. They flew with amazing grace and ease, circling above us, as if for us. It was a wonderful few moments watching them dance together in the sky. It was even more wonderful sharing the moments with Daddy. Still, I was worried that I had made them fly too early. I was concerned until I heard that they all returned to the nest that night, flying off for good the next day.
Life is an astoundingly strong urge. It pushes to give expression, as the blade of grass pushes through the concrete. I felt the life urge for the fledgling birds, and when the baby wrens finally left the garage, I was ecstatic. I don’t know why it was so important to me that they survive. Maybe it’s that I love life so deeply. Maybe it’s that my father has cancer and seeing new life soothes me.
Either way, I’m grateful for the new life and old that surrounds me in each moment.
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{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
loving your sacred presence Carla with the winged ones and with your father
blessings
Vivienne
Life is indeed powerful.
We’re spending this week in Vermont. Yesterday Tom and I went out for a hike while my mom hung out with Lily. As we walked through the forest, we wondered if all the cells and atoms in our bodies had been commingled with the cells and atoms of every other living creature (as well as non-living things), and concluded that since the Earth has been around for billions of years, it was highly likely to be so. For some reason, it’s striking me especially deeply that I’m surrounded by all my relations at every moment, both living and passed on.
Another beautiful piece of writing and photo – always enriches my day to view your post. I thought about how important the survival to you of these birds was – I also often worry for the lives of small creatures. Sometimes I know it’s my own fear of pain that makes me worry – it is hard to witness suffering. But I think there is also genuine compassion mixed with the realisation that all beings value their lives and have the capacity for stress and pain. Perhaps because you understand this so well each being seems amazingly precious.