Harmony Hill…Where Mountains Meet Magic!

Sitting on my deck in the morning with a cup of coffee is primo time for me.  With the rainy weather this season, these times have been rare indeed…in fact the last few days, even though the mornings were clear, I haven’t made the attempt to sit out there.  Today was different, I’m not sure why, it was just one of those days where my inner voice was loud, saying…”let’s sit outside…it’s a really nice morning.  Let’s sit outside; it really doesn’t matter what time it is.  Whatever needs to get done today will get done, we assure you, it will still get done even if you take this time to just sit outside”…And so I listened and sat outside.

My wooden deck features a comfy chair and table set and about ten feet away attached to the rail is the bird feeder.  Just beyond the feeder is a small sapling tree that the birds can use to hop back and forth as they help themselves to the food.  Watching all the different types of birds come by for their morning meal is a cherished moment…one that sometimes conflicts with my desire to sip from my coffee cup.  If I lift my cup to drink, the birds take flight.   And while they come back, it always feels like the moment has been spoiled somehow.  Was that sip of java worth the disturbance of my viewing pleasure!

But today was different.  I knew this again when I glanced up in the sapling and saw a lone brown sparrow sitting on a branch.  I’d lift my cup, the others would take flight.  This little brown bird just sat.  It was puffed up like birds do when they are defending against the cold…it wasn’t cold.  I wondered, “Do female birds look like tennis balls when they’re ready to lay eggs”…I had no idea.  The phone ringing broke my contemplation of pregnant birds and I ran inside to answer.  As I was talking, I looked out the yurt window to see that my little brown friend had hopped onto the wooden deck railing.  I could see clearly now just how puffed up it was, so poufy that I couldn’t see its feet…is there such a thing as bird obesity?  Had this visitor been to the feeder one too many times?  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bird with a body like that.

As I’m talking on the phone, I look out and see my friend has hopped onto the deck…still just sitting there.  I knew this was not right.  The others flitted around, would get spooked and take flight…this little brown puff just sat.  I was talking with Chris and she said…”send it Reiki”.

I broke off my conversation, walked outside and crept slowly closer and closer to the sparrow.  It had its eyes closed like it was sleeping and seemed to be breathing heavily.  Finally, close enough to touch it I began to lightly stroke its head and back…the brown puff made a few attempts to peck then seemed to just relax and enjoy my touch.  I knew it was really sick.  Did it fly into a window somewhere and get dazed?  Was it a migrating bird who got exhausted on its journey?  I picked it up, wings fluttering and hopping a bit, I didn’t think anything was broken, but it definitely wasn’t well.

I gently put the bird down, went back inside to grab a small basket and a hand towel to pad inside.  I retrieved my small friend, placing it in the basket.  At first it hopped onto the edge, then back onto the deck…then it quit trying and stayed inside…I think it realized it had found a safe haven.  I continued to send the creature Reiki, not knowing what else I could do.  I put seeds in the basket thinking it might eat.  It wouldn’t.  I got an eye dropper and put water in its beak thinking it might drink.  it would not.  I sensed the bird’s distress as it started fluttering its wings to no avail as it didn’t have the strength to even keep itself upright.  My last ditch effort was only a thought of comfort.  I gently picked it up out of the basket, held it in the palm of my hand and stroked it on its little chest.  I could feel the bird’s fragile rib bones.  Then almost as quickly as a wing’s flutter, it closed its eyes and went perfectly still in my hand.  I looked at the small bird and wonderment came over me…the body was perfect in size and shape.  It no longer looked puffed and bloated.  It was beautiful and at peace.  Had he/she come to die? Was it my role within this Universe to help one of its creatures transition in peace? I don’t need to know the answers to those questions…but one thing I do know for sure…there would never have been questions at all if I had started my day and not listened to my inner voice telling me “let’s just sit outside today?”

Jana

Over the years, I’ve probably quipped this old adage a kazillion times.  Having been raised in North Florida with a brother-in-law who was a farmer, I probably heard it said equally as many by those around me growing up. I was just a little girl [ my sister was 12 years older than me] and though I remember hearing statements such as this, I never really knew what they meant by them.  At age 6 my widowed Mother and I moved into the ‘city’ and country life seemed like something very remote…how on earth could anyone live out  in the boonies where there are no malls?

Fast forward to now where I have somewhat returned to my roots.  I have forgotten the mall and chosen a life in rural Upstate NY.  As I was driving along the back country roads the other day, I was drifting in thought when it came to me that something was different about the countryside.  There was something my eye was picking up but my brain couldn’t quite make the connection as to what it was …then it hit me.  Field after field had been hayed. Where once there had been tall flowing, tasseled hay there were now beautiful clumps of timothy, alfalfa and clover strewn up and down the hillsides. It hit me like a lead balloon….they were making hay while the sun shines! I chuckled at the childhood memories that flooded back simultaneously.

Most of the East Coast and certainly our slice of Upstate Heaven has been inundated with rain this season.  Early in the season, I believe it was May, we had about a week of unusually warm weather.  Enough warmth that the farmers got in an early haying and they were all very happy and anticipatory that it was going to be a bountiful year.  This, of course, turned out to be a glimpse of something we wouldn’t see again until now…. in August at almost the end of the season.

If you’re not a farmer you’re probably like me and you don’t think much of too much rain.  Only an annoyance because we can’t get out as much, or our small gardens are stunted from too much rain, or our roads are a mess, or any number of little things that don’t really make a whole lot of difference when placed up against a bigger picture.

Farmers definitely look at it differently.  Only one haying in by August means they have been to the bank for operating money about as many times as they could go.  One haying means their livestock didn’t have the silage they needed and feed costs got deducted from an already shrinking profit margin.  One haying meant there was nothing to sell to help pay the bills and one haying meant they had to sell their cows because they couldn’t afford to feed them.  One farmer who was looking for his lost dog stopped by our place and told us the last time he took his cows to the market he had to PAY to sell them….now he was giving them away.  He wondered what he was going to do? He had been dairy farming his entire life…he didn’t know how to do anything else.

It wasn’t until I moved up here that I really became aware of the precarious lifestyle the dedicated people, like my brother-in-law, who supply the bounty we find on our grocery store shelves have chosen for themselves.  They don’t whine or feel sorry for themselves…they can’t imagine doing anything else.  I think what they would really like is the respect they deserve for being the selfless stewards of the land and lords over our dinner tables that they are.

So, the moral of this story?  THANK  A FARMER TODAY…your next meal depends on it!

Jana