Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Bonnie's Brave Birds



Bonnie's Brave Birds



It was a sunny spring morning late in March.  Bonnie opened her eyes and her heart sank as it had every morning since her arrival here six months ago.  Groaning,  she climbed out of bed and walked over to the small window.   The view was less than spectacular, just a field, a fence and a lone tree struggling to come to life and celebrate the end of winter.   Bonnie had made a point of looking out this window and meditating every morning.   Usually the meditation was more of a reflection on her life and the mistakes she had made, and did little to calm her mind.   However, looking outside was a privilege she did not take for granted.  


On this particular morning Bonnie noticed a bustle of activity at the little tree.   Sparrows!  Her heart soared at the sight of them and she wished she could hear their cheerful chirping, but the small window was sealed shut.   Sparrows were her favourite birds in spite of their brown and uninteresting plumage.  She called them "hero birds" because they were so brave.   These little birds were so common, most people probably didn't even give them much notice.  


 But Bonnie did.  And this morning she watched as the little birds cheerfully created a nest in the tree.   She smiled as she saw them busily picking up sticks in their tiny beaks and arranging them on the nearest branch.  They were so industrious and so adept at  what they were doing.  She noticed they were working together;  one bird was on the branch doing to the building while the other one gathered materials.   It was amazing to her the way they made use of whatever was on hand, sticks, leaves, their own feathers and even pieces of cigarette butt that someone had carelessly discarded.

Bonnie had started being aware of sparrows shortly after 911.  At a time when she wondered how the nation  would ever recover from such a senseless tragedy.  How would we would rebuild and move on, and start trusting the world again.   It was a dark time.   She went about her daily life with a sadness and despair that she, like so many others, could not put words to.   On a particularly bad day she was coming out of the grocery store and she heard a ruckus up in the steel  beams of the store.  Loud chirping, tweeting and bustling.   She looked up and saw that it was a bunch of brown birds and they were building a nest up there.   For several moments she stood amazed at this bit of nature amongst the bustle of humanity below.  


After that moment outside the store, Bonnie started to notice these brown creatures in various places.  And she was filled with admiration at these little beings that so bravely carried on their lives in spite of what humans were doing to the earth.  She saw them building nests in the most unlikely places; under store signs, in rafters, in holes in concrete.    They took baths in puddles in parking lots, seemingly heedless of passing traffic.   Once during a sudden rain storm she came running to her car in a hurry to get out of the rain, and she noticed two little sparrows sitting on her tire, the wheel well offering a safe haven for them.     But her most joyous experience of the these birds had been the morning she had awoken to the ruckus of dozens of sparrows that had gathered in a nearby bush and were having a rowdy bird party as the sun came up.  It was a wonderful way to start the day.

As Bonnie watched the busy birds in the tree outside her window she felt a stirring of hope well up inside her.   She would look forward to watching this bird family as they lived their life in her view.  She knew there would be babies soon.   She also realized that the coming leaves would obscure a lot of what she would see, but that didn't matter.  They were in there, and life was continuing on and would continue no matter what happened in her small world.


Bonnie wished she could be more like those birds.  If she had been able to live her life  so certain that she mattered, if she had adapted to her surroundings, finding a way to survive using all of the many resources available to her, how different would her life have been?

The scrape of a lock and the clang of a door brought Bonnie abruptly back to herself.  It was another day.  Another fight for survival.  

"Okay Hawkins, let's go.  It's time."   the matron barked.   Bonnie took a deep breath and gave one last glance out the window.  And there was a little sparrow on the ledge, cocking its head at her.  It took a hop forward gave a peep that she could not hear and flew off. 


"HAWKINS!  MOVE IT!"   


Bonnie turned and walked out of her cell.

1 comment:

Fantasy Writer Guy said...

Wow. That was great! Very powerful!

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