The blessing of a baby bird

It’s been one of those topsy-turvy days. I always have a hard time accepting it when things don’t go as planned, given that I so enjoy the planning process. My daughter was playing outside and I was sitting in the sun watching her, when she spotted a very small and very dead baby bird, crumpled on our back porch. Baby bird must have somehow been expelled from its nest before its time, it was so tiny, with its newly developing wings curled up into its body and fuzzy little feather sprouts on its head. As I was about to launch into a short overview on the circle of life, I burst into tears to match my daughter’s. Circle of life or no, here was a dead baby bird, and damn – it was just sad. Morgane and I hugged each other, and she said, “Grown ups die, not babies” which made me cry even harder.

I composed myself and told Morgane we would say a blessing for the baby bird. I gently scooped it up with a paper towel, and we walked up into the tall, lush grass that goes on for miles behind our house and set the baby bird down. We said a blessing for the baby bird’s spirit. It felt like some kind of closure for this big life lesson from a tiny, fragile creature that didn’t make it very far in this world. Thanks baby bird, for the reminder of how precious life is, no matter how topsy-turvy the day.