Two Bird Stories (and a Connection.)

Yesterday’s great delight was the appearance of the first fledglings of the summer. Two little female sparrows, still with that characteristic softness about their new feathers, accompanied their mother to the bird table. There followed frenetic flappings of baby wings to command the mother’s attention, and she dutifully gave each one a beakfull of food. Then she flew away and the kids picked up some food for themselves before following her. Learning the ropes, of course.

On a similar theme, but of maybe deeper significance, I had an unusual experience this morning.

I’ve been watching the parent blue tits bringing food for the chicks in the nest box outside my kitchen window for a couple of weeks now. I glanced at it when I first got up, and it looked different somehow. It looked empty. I couldn’t understand how that could be, since it looks the same from the outside as it has done ever since I put a roof on it four years ago. I pondered the question for a while, and realised that it had nothing to do with the appearance of the box, but rather a feeling inside me. I sensed that it had been abandoned. I kept an eye on it all day, and there have been no birds anywhere near it. The chicks obviously fledged before I got up this morning, which is what they usually do. So where did this ‘sense’ come from? I’ve never felt it before, and yet it was sudden and quite powerful. It hit me the second I looked at the box. It made me feel slightly sad that something precious had gone. Am I becoming attuned, I wonder?