A family of sparrows made a nest outside my parent’s deck
door entrance to their home. Decades ago, my grandfather had a mechanic’s shop
and put an upside-down coffee can under the eaves for a returning family of
sparrows to have a dry and supportive space to build their nest. It’s fun to imagine
that this family is a distant descendant of those sparrows that followed my mom
to her current home.
She discovered the nest last week while watering a hanging
plant and has been feeding and chatting with the mother bird and really
enjoying the presence of nature in her midst. Yesterday she was observing the
fledgling birds venturing from the nest and attempting to fly for the first time.
Her excitement at watching this little miracle occupied most of the day.
On my way to visit my parents, my own fledgling called on
the phone. He is moving from a stressful home environment to a new “nest” of
his own. He ventured to California as a very young 17yo college student and has
been a proud CA resident for the last 11 years.
His friend group planned for years to rent a home together with five individuals.
The application process and move process was grueling. He moved to San Diego
with no job arranged and found frustration and need to borrow money from
roommates complicated his relationships to the point he needed to move out
after repaying his debts. Hmm. Didn’t mom caution about both circumstances? Yes,
but mom is mom. THIS time, he is moving to a new location, closer to work,
retaining a secure job and moving in with two unknown roommates as their third to
balance the costs. Taking mom’s suggestions, wow. The difference a challenging
year makes. So my own fledgling needed a pep talk and reminded him to stay
optimistic, hydrated and well fed during his moving process.
While visiting with my parents, there was a flutter of noise
behind my chair. One of the baby birds had inadvertently entered the house
while the slide was open and become disoriented. It decided to try to fly through the window
and found a solid obstacle. Mom started to go for it with her bare hands, I
grabbed a soft towel so the human scent would not ostracize the bird, the towel
would cushion against injury, and hold any soiling caused by the adventure. It
perched on the windowsill with a very perplexed “Help me get out!” look. Gently
grasping the bird with the towel between my palms, I marveled at the miracle.
Having a wee bird cupped in one’s hands is a powerful feeling
of power and powerlessness. Too much pressure could injure it; too little and
it could fall. Just snug enough to feel it quaking with the new sensation. What
a rush!
The bird was set in a plant outside to recover. It hopped
down to meet mama, was promptly fussed over/at, and flew away. The purpose of
parenting is to hold snugly, but loosely so that the wings can be tested, and
flight achieved.
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