We arrived safely a few weeks ago to our Little Cottage On The Prairie and got settled in pretty much the first evening. The fabulous former owner of our new SK abode, the lovely Stephanie, left us a nice bottle Of Naked Grape, some handsome wine glasses and a big old jug o’ water because the water here is not the nicest h20 in the world. What a sweetie that Steph is! You go girl!
Anyhoo…it’s easy to work here…the pace is slow, the town is quiet, the yard is pretty and the house has enough room to have a seperate studio. Our new home was turn key ready and I am in love with the uber nice appliances. I now own my very first microwave oven and it’s stainless steel front matches the other wunderbar stainless steel kitchen appliances. Yowza! Grown up appliances! Who knew how awesome they are!?
We tried to make the recent Parade, but sadly Bruno read the poster with the wrong date on it and so we missed the festivities. Boo!
But the darkest cloud so far was our failure to save a baby Brewers Blackbird who fell from a rather high nest on Thursday morning.
There is something so very heartwrenching about a baby bird out of the nest. It cried for it’s parents all day long, most of the time from a nice nest we made for it ala the advice we gleaned from several internet sites on how to handle a baby bird. It did great the first night and had parental visits, much to our relief. But yesterday it took a tumble again and hopped around crazily all day long. After we went for our run we came home to find it screaming to it’s parents in the middle of main street. And while the town is quiet, it’s not that quiet…the bird was very lucky not to have been hit by a car or truck, as it didn’t resemble more than a clump of dirt. The parents fed it late yesterday evening but I could tell it wasn’t feeling well as we tucked it into the nest and then under a box lid for the night. (There was a weather watch last night and we didn’t want to leave it in the nest we made jammed into the trees, we’ve had huge hail and several tornado watches since we got here, so it seemed to be the best thing to do.)
When I awoke this morning to silence I knew it hadn’t made it through the night. I got up at 5:00 am and went into the cool and dewy yard. When I uncovered the nest from the box, the bird’s frail and fragile body was turned in a sad and final way and tiny amber coloured ants were already on it’s tired little face. It’s had me reflecting all day, in the midst of life we are in death. We did everything right for the poor lost creature, but we still couldn’t help it to survive.
Failing to save it has made me feel quite blue and at a bit of a loss.
On a semi humourous note, Bruno buried the bird in our yard and smudged sage at my request, but when he did that, a passer by stopped to sniff at the air ( burning sage smells very marijuana-y ) and one could guess by the glance Bruno saw him make at our home, it has now most likely been assumed that we are “smoke in the yard potheads”.
Oh well, whatcha gonna do?
In our case, we’ll keep painting, make some buttons and keep running in the afternoon on a very pretty, very quiet country road…and in my case, I’ll keep sending the bird’s spiraling soul lot’s of white light and love, as it makes it’s much too early way into The Great Mystery…
Good Thoughts to All Blog readers, may we all be well, humans, baby birds, potheads et all…