Lessons From a Winged One

Apr 12, 2016

This morning the sweetest little junco had an unfortunate encounter with our porch window. After falling to the porch floor, it was quivering and trying to fluff its feathers out for warmth. Its efforts looked futile, so I brought it indoors. I’ve been cradling it in my hands in hopes some warmth would help it recover from the cold blow. It seemed to help as it perked up for a few seconds and looked around for a time. I draped it gently in a scarf I had worn yesterday, to retain the heat that had been restored. It looked as if it was going to survive and fly free another day. But that moment of vitality was followed by a certain surrender. My husband made an apt observation. “It makes it through winter, then dies from its shadow.”

Dark Eyed Junco in an Evergreen.jpg

Beautiful little one, you blessed me this day with many gifts. Seeing your beauty up close—the artful greys and blacks and the pure white of your belly. Smoothing your velvety, tiny feathers, a reminder to be soft. Witnessing as your effort shifted to allowing. Your grace in letting go, a powerful lesson. Thank you sweet teacher.

“Death itself is what makes life meaningful.” - Victor Frankl