Early Spring has arrived and the weather has been fantastic. Last Sunday, I got up early, put some seeds on the ground for the birds like I usually do, then went to church.
When I returned, the small flock of birds that gathers everyday to eat the seeds got startled, like they usually do, when I walked down the driveway. They departed in a sudden whoosh up into the nearby bushes and trees. But then, I noticed two little birds laying on the ground at the start of the driveway where it meets the street.
The two sparrows were dead. I was puzzled and went to the garage to get a shovel. Picking the two up on the shovel blade, I examined them more closely. No blood or wounds, so a cat hadn’t caught them, or the hawk from the nearby park. And they were a beautiful pair. A male and female. The female was all mottled brown and the male was the same except for a black and white cap. They looked plump and healthy except they didn’t move and their eyes were cloudy white. The little, fine-feathered-fragile machines had stopped.
One of the most basic attributes that differentiate humans from animals is that we bury our dead. I took the two sparrows over to the front hedges and lay them down on the grass while I tuned over a spade full of dirt. Then I placed them in the ground and covered them up.
I felt bad. The beautiful pair of sparrows must have been killed by a passing car as they swooped in from across the street to get the seed I put out. Were they mates? Rushing together to feed, build a nest? There would not be any Spring for them. Not anymore.
Later in the week, bundled against a cold breeze on an early Spring morning, I darted through a city park back to the office. In the center of the park was a big, ornate fountain. The water had long been shut off for the Winter. As I hurried by, a beautiful pair of sparrows popped up on the rim of the fountain. A male and female. Their wings fluttered for an instant and the two flew off. Before I could even think about hat I had just seen, another pair alighted and took flight just like the first.
I felt better about everything in the wh0le wide world and hurried off to work in a great mood.
Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father’s consent.
copyright 2016 Magnus Incognito