When it hit my window, I thought for sure it was going to continue through the glass.
The loud THUD was directly to the left of me, as I worked on the computer, April first. But this was no April Fool joke.
I knew instantly what had happened. I slid the window open…. I could hear and see, others already gathering. They were calling out to their friend.
As I looked down,
I saw its little yellow body on the ground.
Just laying there.
I shouted out the window, “It will be okay! You’re good! Hang in there….” Then grabbed my camera and hurried downstairs to watch the ‘Miracle’ transpire.
What Miracle, you ask?
The Miracle that was taught to me,
by my dearly departed friend/sis, Sarah.
And the way she taught it to me, was amazing.
It bore into my heart;
engrained for life.
I was visiting Sarah,
in her beautiful rural west Michigan home.
She had an array of wildlife,
often visiting her yard and the outdoor upper deck.
We loved sitting on that deck,
overlooking the bayou wildlife.
Sandhill Cranes, deer, muskrats and other neighborhood friends,
gathered the bayou, to look at us.
On such a summer day,
a little chickadee collided with the sliding glass patio door.
There its lifeless body lay on the deck.
My heart went out to it as I rose and went to investigate.
From the looks of it,
certainly it was dead.
“Sarah, the poor thing.
What are we going to do with it?,” I asked sis.
While Sarah was filing her nails, she calmly asked,
“What do you mean?”
“This chickadee! It hit the window, Sarah.
You were here.
Look at it!
Sarah looked up,
“Are you sure? Let’s wait and see,”
and she went back to working on her nails.
And I cannot tell you how much time went by….
for in those moments
I felt detached from time.
However, I can tell you what I witnessed:
That little bird, which laid there with a ‘broken neck’, began to move.
It was very wobbly at first, as if in a drunken stupor.
But its wing was not held close to its body.
It must be broken…..
Slowly, the bird regained its composure,
and attempted a flight.
It flew across the deck, within arms reach of both of us and
landed on the opposing deck rail,
next to me.
There it sat and observed us.
And in short order,
with a wink and a nod,
off he flew to his awaiting feathered friends in the trees.
I was amazed!
I had written that ‘broken bird’ off, for dead….
And here I am now,
eight years later,
at the side of a beautiful yellow bird, who certainly looks dead.
I began talking to him. “It’s ok. You will be alright. You are strong.”
Before long, I noticed it’s little chest moving.
There was the breath of life.
And its chest movement began to get more rapid and pronounced.
Then there was slight body movement, or was it the wind? And as I brushed an ant away, the noise caused him to react.
And I continued talking and assuring that I was not there to harm him.
The bugs were moving in, wanting to pick away at this fresh prize meal. I kept brushing them away, “Go pick on someone your own size, bug!”, I scolded.
As I watched, the bird began to swallow. Then more of him became active.
What transpired next, still amazes me.
As the bird began moving more body parts, stretching/flexing legs and feet, something took over within me. I found myself snapping my fingers 3 times and saying, “Come on now. Get up. The bugs are moving in. Don’t just lay there!”
And with the snapping of my fingers, that ‘broken bird’ flipped over onto its feet. Then quickly scurried past me, to the nearby vegetation. Soon, he found himself a nice solid perch to rest and heal on.
He was not quite ready to fly,
but did manage to do a test flight
and seemed to perch ok.
He dismounted and started hopping across the patio, away from me. That is when I bid him well and went inside.
Some time later, I went out to see where he might be. I found him in the side yard, hopping his way to better shelter. He appeared to be holding his wings ok. None were ‘dragging’, as if broken.
He hit that window SUPER hard. He must be quite bruised and just needs more time for healing. I wished him well and went on my way. Nature will do what nature does best.
Thank you for reading! I value your being here,
Daily Prompt: swallow