A Bird In Hand

Sometimes the pristine perfection of a title for a blog post outshines any possible combination of words that follow it.  In fact I was hemming and hawing about posting this, but I couldn't resist the opportunity for such a perfect title.

So there I was at my day job, everyone at lunch but me and one other guy, and we had opened the huge bay doors of the warehouse to let in the sunshine and the fresh air.  I was minding my own business filling an order when the other guy came running past, looking at the ceiling and mumbling something about a bird.  As I was letting this sink in, he ran up the stairs to this upper level storage area, and I could hear him desperately trying to scare the bird toward the doors.

"Goddess be with me," I whispered to my self as I calmly climbed the stairs and assessed the situation.  The little junco was sitting on a ledge of these big windows we have up there, and intermittently jumping up and fluttering against them trying to get out.  "Good," I thought, "She's a little worn out so that will make this easier."

The other guy was chattering non-stop, at me and at the bird, still the sound of desperation in his voice.  "What do we do? We're just trying to help you! What should we do?!"  I more-or-less tuned him out and focused on our little feathered friend, stepping slowly toward her while removing my over-shirt.  At the same time I consciously relaxed myself, allowing reiki energy to start flowing through me, and I talked softly to the scared little bird.  I was able to get pretty close, and on my second or third attempt, when she fluttered up, skimming against the window, I successfully threw my shirt around her like a net and gently  found and held her through the cotton folds of my shirt.  She was too tired to fight, and with the weight of my shirt and firmness of my hands she surrendered and calmed. 

Again I tuned out my co-worker, whose desperation had turned to praise, and calmly walked the little bundle in my hands outside, away from the warehouse.  I knelt down in the dirt next to some bushes and, still holding her securely with one hand, pulled the shirt away from her head so I could see her.  Our eyes met, and though I knew she was still scared and unsure of her fate, I whispered to her my thanks for allowing me such an honor as this personal interaction which totally put the rest of my day in perspective.

I slowly opened my other hand.  She slipped from my shirt and instantly shot away, her black and white tail feathers flashing at me.

Thank you Goddess.