I have these big picture windows at the front of my cottage. Yesterday a bird flew into one of the windows, and I saw it, heard it, almost felt it— he was flying fast. I ran to the window to see… He was lying on his back on the porch, feet in the air, clearly heavily stunned, but I could see him breathing. I felt so sorry for the little guy, but I didn’t want to frighten him, so I sat in my reading chair by the window and watched him, tried to send him loving vibes…feeling sort of responsible. It’s my window. After a time, he sort of flipped over onto his feet, but still looked out of it; I thought maybe he’d got a concussion, or was in shock. He could move, so it seemed unlikely he’d damaged his spine. But he was pretty out of it.
I waited a while, thinking about how vulnerable he was like that, thinking about the neighbor’s cat, so after a bit longer I decided to see if I could put him in a box with some padding and maybe keep him warm until he’d come around or until I knew if he would come around. Now I realize that all the other birds I’ve ever seen experience this same kind of accident are usually off again after a few moments. This bird took quite a while, maybe half an hour. He made some small movements with his beak, and eventually his head began dropping forward and he’d raise it again, as if he were trying not to fall asleep…
So I went and found a little box, put some newspaper in it, and a clean towel, and put on some gloves so I wouldn’t get my stink on him… I went out the back door so I wouldn’t alarm him by opening the front door. I walked quietly to the front of the cottage and then slowly, slowly stepped onto the porch. I then sat down and inched toward him, making soft chirpy sounds, and keeping my eyes squinty (so as to not look predatory).
It took him a few seconds to see me, or to understand what I was, or something, I don’t know. But when I was quite close, and I just sat there, I talked softly to him a little bit, telling him it was okay, just for a few seconds, and then suddenly he seemed to see me, SEE me, and his little black eyes went quite wide, and then, within 5 seconds, his eyes went nearly closed again, and… he was gone. I knew he was gone, and I sort of expected to see something leave his body, as I’d seen happen with a cat many years ago (that’s another story). But he just went, and his body was still, and I just sat there and cried. Poor little bird. I think I’ve found a photo of what sort of bird he was— Oddly, I’m not sure I can really remember that well, except he had a long beak and a whitish belly and some kind of coloring…
Thinking about it now, as I’m writing this, my tears return. He was just a little bird, an innocent, all chubbied up for winter time. I put him in the box and covered him. I went out to find stickers to put on the windows, because if those windows are going to kill birds, I feel responsibility. But I want to try and avoid this violent, unexpected exit happening to any more of “my” birdies. I went to three different stores to find stickers, with no luck.
In the car on the way to find stickers, I thought about other animals I’d been with as they’d passed into the Next Adventure… Our first family dog, Annie, she died in my arms on the way to the vet. Our second family dog, Charlie, died on a table at the vet’s, with my arms around him. I held my little “squeezer” cat, Sally O’Malley, as a visiting vet loosed her into the Beyond. I was there when one woman died, and there when others were very close to it. I watched as Orange Boy the cat was killed by rogue dogs…
It’s deeply affecting, being so close to death. It’s quietly, terribly, beautifully, profoundly moving. I wondered if that little bird, his eyes widening when he saw me, thought I was the Angel of Death, come to take him “home.” And I thought about my parents soon to cross that bridge, and of my own crossing. It seems that no matter how many times I have been a witness, or just someone connected in some way to the one passing, it is always, even for just a wee bird, a miracle, a humbling and precious moment, a thing of incredible importance. I am one tiny molecule of this Universe.
Our values are so strange, really. I commend what you did, but in the 'wild' of the yard, the cat eating the bird would be of more value to nature, possibly, than burying the bird?. I would have done the same as you, or wanted to. I find it so strange, what we do to our dead, fill them full of chemicals so they cant biodegrade......I was thusly horrified when my mother passed and, so that the relatives could attend, her body was plasticized with resin just so they could 'see' her. Then she was cremated, all those plastic and badness burned into the air....for our convenience. Its a '24 hour burial or cremation for me' , sorry but I wont look pretty for my own funeral !
I fear that the ones we do this to cannot move on properly spiritually, they are 'locked in time' like something in a tupperware. If I was on top of my game I would arrange for a new biodgradable burial, (you are essentially composted in a large bin that is hand turned and you decompose VERY quickly but naturally). Alternately, a coffin is now made of mushrooms that does about the same thing, quickly.