This past weekend, my wife discovered a beautiful baby Cedar Waxwing that had either fallen, or been ejected, from its nest. She carefully cradled the bird in her tshirt as she walked home, rescuing it from baking in a hot parking lot.
‘Piglet’ was the closest I came to naming it (after discovering that the appetite of a baby bird is almost humorously frightening).
However, to name it would not have been appropriate: I had no delusion about the end goal – we wanted to see it fly away to establish its own life, sharing it’s songs with the neighborhood.
Unfortunately, those plans were derailed by health issues (which may have been the reason behind its being out of its nest in the first place). It wasn’t strong enough to survive in this world, and was forced to leave us today.
This morning, the songs were missing and the activity was almost nil. She/he was saying goodbye.
In five short days, it brought songs to our porch – and joy to our family. Now those songs belong to the angels; but its wondrous short life will always be part of our us.