Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Farmer Whisperer and a bird of a miracle.

I'm about to share a story with you.  A story captured with pictures.  I was at home alone when out of the corner of my eye, I saw the cat run by heading for the bathroom where he released his occasional mouse offerings. I knew he'd drop the item in the bathtub and it may be in various stages of consciousness.  So, I grabbed my trusty mouse container and prepared for possible live capture.  Only this time, it was not a mouse. It was a tiny and fragile hummingbird.  My heart sank to see it laying upside down and only shallowly breathing.  I removed the cat, closed the door, and opened the bathroom window.  I figured I'd give it some time to collect it's barings and hopefully fly out on it's own, if it was able to.  However, at first glance, the situation seemed hopeless to me. 

Then farmer C. arrived. I mentioned the event unfolding in the bathroom.  He disappeared from view and then I noticed C. sitting outside with the hummingbird held tenderly in hands.  Something quiet and peaceful about C.'s concentration and this little hummer.   

Something told me to keep watching. Something special was happening.
I suddenly realized that the contrasts in this scene were
inspiring me. The size of man vs. tiny bird. The roughness of the farmer's hands vs the fragility of this soft bird. The sacrifice of compassion vs the will to survive. 
I stood in my hidden spot, watched and waited....

And waited.
And watched.

Until I couldn't watch anymore.  I left and came back periodically to check on them.

It was almost as if C. was trying to heal and encourage the bird.  Giving it a safe and warm place to gather the confidence and allow the life it had before. 

A private whisper for bird
from man.

Then after about 20 minutes just after I took this picture

It buzzed off!  A miracle!
Overjoyed, I ran outside and told C. how I had been inside taking pictures all along and how fantastic I thought that the hummer flew off, when I noticed C. had tears in his eyes....
I didn't mention it again until a few days later.  I asked him what had occurred between him and the bird during that time.  He only said, "I was concerned." I knew he had been a black belt martial arts teacher years ago and asked him if that's where his concentration was learned.  "You could say that." He replied.  "Was it a male or female?  Do you know?"  I asked.  "It was a male."  Hmmm, I thought. Maybe he was so mysterious because it was some sort of male bonding thing?   I'll never know...