When we had a big snow storm some weeks ago, a pair of birds found shelter in our balcony. There is an old grape vine and pine cone wreathe that has seen better days and a small "bird feeder" I had made many months ago by of nailing an empty coconut shell to the railing. The sunflower seeds in the feeder have been around for a while with no takers. My friends tell me that not every bird eats sunflower seeds and maybe the ones that live in the woods nearby don't.
At any rate, that day these two birds found shelter in the wreathe and food in the feeder making me and J very happy. We had given up on ever having birds feed out of our improvised bird feeder. As depressing as it is to be snowed in all weekend, the birds made it much less so. For those two days, they became our connection to the world outside as they went back and forth between the woods and the balcony.
Watching them had me thinking about "shelters" I have sought in times of distress and what in normal circumstances would have been unthinkable became quite acceptable in that situation. Many years ago, I spent a month and a half in someone's stone cold attic. After the storm passed, the birds did not come back very much. I never had returned to the house with the attic that had given me a second chance in life. Like the birds, I turned to the woods where I belonged, where I could be free even if not always comfortable.
At any rate, that day these two birds found shelter in the wreathe and food in the feeder making me and J very happy. We had given up on ever having birds feed out of our improvised bird feeder. As depressing as it is to be snowed in all weekend, the birds made it much less so. For those two days, they became our connection to the world outside as they went back and forth between the woods and the balcony.
Watching them had me thinking about "shelters" I have sought in times of distress and what in normal circumstances would have been unthinkable became quite acceptable in that situation. Many years ago, I spent a month and a half in someone's stone cold attic. After the storm passed, the birds did not come back very much. I never had returned to the house with the attic that had given me a second chance in life. Like the birds, I turned to the woods where I belonged, where I could be free even if not always comfortable.
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