Saturday, April 6, 2013

a piece of ourselves..

Every morning I wake up to the sounds of crashing on my window.

"Oh, he's up already.." and I scruffle up my hair, find my slippers and start making the coffee.  When I get in my "nest" (my mamabear chair, with blanket, Bible, coffee and pillow)  the trusty friend is there to greet me.

Thankfully, my friend "blunt-beak" is on the other side of the window, happily doing his morning crash and burn routine.

"He's got a lot of energy this morning" I think as the feisty red bird dives in for another crash.

So, it's all good.  We've had a feisty, narcissistic, predatory cardinal crashing into our windows since October. And he continues until today.

We all have different names for him.

"How is Hammerhead this morning?" my husband asked earlier today.

A lot of people think this is weird.  And a lot of people have definite opinions about this.  When the word gets out, we get a variety of responses.

"Did you know there is a bird crashing into your window?"  -- especially if they've never seen this phenomena.

"yup" yawn..

One gal just jumped a mile out of her seat when the bird crashed the window next to her.  We were doing Bible study, and I'm sure she was wondering if she should take cover or just sit there and act like she didn't notice.

Which is precisely what we were doing--not noticing.  You can get used to almost anything, and we have.

Another person suggested setting up an entire entourage of mirrors and what-nots on the deck to draw the bird away from the window.  For the safety of the bird. 


What kind of bleeding heart hippie do you think I am? 

"yeah.. but, it's not my problem"  I tell them.

"What do you mean... it's not YOUR problem!??"  and "WHY doesn't this bother you??"

So this is what I tell them.

It's not my problem that the bird went insane.  It's not my problem that the bird is hurting itself. (I do not have conclusive evidence that this is hurting him.  He looks a tad misshapen, but that is all)  It's also not my responsibility to shoot the bird either (which the other end of the spectrum has suggested).

I think the bird is quite entertaining, and quite honestly who ever gets to see wild life up this close, anyway?

I feed the bird, I admit.  I talk to the bird.  I empathize with his "issues" but I am perfectly at peace letting him use our home as a place of "refuge" if you will.

Granted.  There is no hope for someone or something who continuously crashing into themselves over and over and over.

Blunt Beak (a.k.a. Crashing Cardinal or Hammerhead ) is a lesson for us all.

You know and I know that we all have a piece of ourselves in that bird.

We do what we know and think to be right.  Later on, we wonder why we thought it was right.  And even now, we are currently crashing into "a window" of sorts in some way or another.

And if we aren't, then--are we even alive?  Really.  I am serious.  We either sit still, do nothing, take no risks and stay safe.  We never do anything foolish or take any risks.  We stay in our hobbit holes day after day.

Or we can be going full steam ahead at something, and thereby, taking huge and often foolish risks that may or may not end up looking as "wise" a bird that crashes into its own reflection 46 times a day for the mere ruse of being the "dominant" species of the plantation.

No.  I welcome the bird.  He represents life to me--in its fullest sense.

And that, my friend, is more than I can say for many humans, especially the humans who refuse to leave their hobbit holes for adventures.  


Mrs. Santos said...

I've missed you and your perspective. I've had a sore "beak" lately. Thanks for the encouragement.

Herding Grasshoppers said...

I love it! Be the bird ;D


Mrs. Parunak said...

Great thoughts, Jena!

The dB family said...

Great analogy! We still have Carl the Kamikaze Cardinal too. I looked up their life expectancy one day because I feel like he's been doing this for years. Apparently if he doesn't go and get himself killed, he'll be doing it for a few more years.