Some small moments are truly precious. These are moments that cannot be captured in words, although I am compelled here to try. It was an uneventful day at work. I was even in a pretty good mood, something which too frequently eludes me, and for which, given my father's recent demise, I may have felt a little guilty.
It was about 4:30. And there I saw through the slats of my blinds that a small bird had landed on the ledge of my window. This is the part that gets hard to articulate, the wonder of a bird, I could not tell what it was, just being there, of a sudden. Not a sparrow, although about sparrow size, and color, but with a beak that was more like that of a parrot or lorikeet, kind of rounded and pressing on the feathered face. I thought, if I get close, move the slats, he'll fly off. But he didn't. He cocked his head, blinked his period of an eye, and chirped. I move things to hold the slat back. And he looked like he actually wanted to come in. I couldn't believe my luck at being so close to him, though the glass separated us. I called my secretary. I needed confirmation of what to me was an extraordinary moment. I mean, I am in the heart of the city. Birds fly around all the time, but they never get close to the building. I am on the 8th floor and there is not a single tree up that high. And he is right in front of me. My secretary loved his face. If I could have taken some kind of implement, and realistically, cut a square in the window so I could touch him. Silly. Then I worried. Was he sick? Why would he even be here, now, this moment, unless there was something wrong. He slid like a tightwalker on the narrow ledge. He must fly I thought. Otherwise how COULD he be here, pausing before me?
And as I began to worry, and kill the moment, he flew off, demonstrating that it had been natural magic to savor, not fear. It made me smile for hours. I am still smiling.
Does it mean something? Does it have to? It just makes me breath out, and in, and out again, with profound gratefulness.
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