Encountering a small death

Yesterday I was mowing a lawn when I came across a bird nest that had blown out of a tree.  About a foot from the nest I came across the former inhabitants, two dead fledglings.  The birds were speckled grey, probably robins, and looked like they were getting big enough to soon leave the nest.  I am sure the high winds we had the other day destroyed their home and their lives.

I dug a hole and buried them side by side with two  dandelions for color and beauty.  I know they are dead and it makes no difference if I throw them in the trash can or give them an unmarked grave, but it makes me feel better to honor them a little.  It gives me time to remember death, always around the corner, always waiting.

I think of the time birds put into making a nest and hatching eggs, the drive to procreate, the need all life has to reproduce.  This is what life is, a need to continue.  Then I think of the burdens we all carry, each of us with our own stories, our own victories and failures, and I decide to try to be just a little kinder and a little less  judgmental.  Maybe if I learn something from the little birds their short lives will have meant something.

2 thoughts on “Encountering a small death”

  1. Love this post. Very thoughtful. Beautiful and touching. Procreate not only physically, but also with our words and deeds.

  2. I would have done the same thing. I watch how tough it is for birds…a tough existence in my trees that sway in the giant winds we have. A tough life when other birds maurade nests of younguns..and hail and storms drive their little lives to the edge. I love how you intertwined the a bird’s life with metaphor. Heartspeak.

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