BIRDSONG

Yesterday I was outside in the yard. I heard as THUMP. Looking around I saw a little bird of some kind (my ornithology skills are less than I hoped they would be). It had hit the front window of our living room window.

I must be getting more sensitive. In years past that would have been a simple clean up project. Dead Bird disposal brigade. I picked the little fellow up, I held him close to me for warmth (it’s cold here). I was about to give up when he gave a little shiver. For the next several minutes I held him and stroked his feathered head. He came around without mouth to beak resuscitation. I laid him in a boxwood plant in our front yard. He sat there for a few minutes, dusted himself off and flew away.

I’m a hunter. I like shooting grouse, doves, pheasants, geese, ducks and anything else legal and in season. I particularly like deer hunting. It serves a purpose and it’s part of the order of things. But a little innocent life like that little bird deserves my compassion and time. I’m glad I did. Maybe it’s a \/ testosterone thing of age. If it is, I’m OK with it.

I would like to believe that it had to do with my love for music and beauty. I have become convinced that birds sing in natural musical organization. I have heard enough pretty birdsongs to know that they have an instinctive ability to sing on key in an accessibly beautiful chromatic order.

There is a guy who has studied this. Why Birds Sing.

So maybe I saved or nursed an avian Beethoven. I will listen carefully this spring and see if I hear him in the orchestra.


UPDATE:
I just found his little carcass in the flower bed. Very sad. His recovery was short lived.