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June: The month of deaths and birds. I’m taking care of the neighbor's two chickens and small garden for a couple of weeks. It’s a bit of a bother to go let the chickens out in the morning and then go shut them in at night. Yet, when I approach the coop and hear their little clucky noises, I change my mind. Henrietta and Penelope are endearing. (Or, at least now they are. They might not seem so fetching with the winter dark, cold and rain.)
The home-made coop has a pitched roof made of a wavy, clear plastic. I can see the 2 chickens inside doing whatever it is that chickens do. One morning I observed both on the long perch extending the length of the structure. One of them was walking carefully along the bar, heading for the other side of the shelter. She made good progress until she reached the other, all hunkered down, roosting in the middle of the bar ~ blocking the path. The first didn't stop or even hesitate. She just dug in her claws and climbed her way over the back of the one that was in the way. (Squaaawk!) It made me laugh.
It's funny watching them through that wavy plastic and see them watching me back. They look at me so intently. I'm thinking they are hoping for some fresh feed but then again, they might be wondering about my distorted image as they look through 1) chicken eyes and 2) wavy plastic. What does a chicken think?? What does a *captive* chicken think?
One evening, in the warmth of the wonderful summer air, I walked to Lamb’s Thriftway for a few items. I was passing a field when there was a fluttering of feathers and a bird fell from a tree into the tangled grasses. I didn’t see any movement after it fell so I crossed the ditch to investigate.
It was a sparrow of sorts. I wasn’t sure what kind. It was lying still in the open field. It was breathing heavily and blinked at me as it lay there. Its feet were curled tightly and one wing was outstretched. I watched it for some time wondering if it was a fledgling out of the nest for exercise or an older bird that was dying. I looked up for a nest and parent birds. Nothing was evident.
Studying this poor creature, I decided it was not healthy and was probably dying. I wished I had water to give it…and wondered if it had been able to find water during the hot day. I wished I could scoop it up and take it to Audubon for treatment. I also knew that picking it up would be an additional stress which would certainly kill it. I left it, hoping a cat wouldn’t find it and continued on my way.
On my return, I checked on it again and found it on its back. It was still breathing…only lightly. I knew it would soon expire. I’ve thought of the different deaths I’ve dealt with during the past two months. Disease, accident, and incidents of age, all led to a loss and an inevitable gap in the circle of people I know. I reflected on my friend battling cancer in Idaho and of others here closer to home.
I mused on how deaths occur to animals in the natural world. Wildlife author Ernest Thompson Seton said, “The life of a wild animal always has a tragic end.” This bird would be the first I have witnessed that just falls from a tree and doesn’t have the strength or ability to save itself. No family or friend was there to help – just a passing human who let it be. I thought of the scripture where Christ says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father [knowing]. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:29-31)
My Idaho friend no longer has any head hairs to count but Heavenly Father is aware of her fight, her body and her spirit. I don’t know what or when her end will be. Or mine either. I don’t know if the little bird was old or maybe had been poisoned. It died alone, without notice. Not even by me. I had walked away after I saw that it was weakening with each moment.
I’m hoping that as we live our routine, daily lives, we are surrounded by people who care about us. I pray that when the time arrives for any one of us to leave Earth that people either known or unknown by us, will be there with us, to ease our transition through to the next life with their protection, concern and love for us. Each one of us is worth that care.
I am comforted to know that my value is greater than that of many sparrows even as they are all loved by Him, our Creator, my Father.
The home-made coop has a pitched roof made of a wavy, clear plastic. I can see the 2 chickens inside doing whatever it is that chickens do. One morning I observed both on the long perch extending the length of the structure. One of them was walking carefully along the bar, heading for the other side of the shelter. She made good progress until she reached the other, all hunkered down, roosting in the middle of the bar ~ blocking the path. The first didn't stop or even hesitate. She just dug in her claws and climbed her way over the back of the one that was in the way. (Squaaawk!) It made me laugh.
It's funny watching them through that wavy plastic and see them watching me back. They look at me so intently. I'm thinking they are hoping for some fresh feed but then again, they might be wondering about my distorted image as they look through 1) chicken eyes and 2) wavy plastic. What does a chicken think?? What does a *captive* chicken think?
One evening, in the warmth of the wonderful summer air, I walked to Lamb’s Thriftway for a few items. I was passing a field when there was a fluttering of feathers and a bird fell from a tree into the tangled grasses. I didn’t see any movement after it fell so I crossed the ditch to investigate.
It was a sparrow of sorts. I wasn’t sure what kind. It was lying still in the open field. It was breathing heavily and blinked at me as it lay there. Its feet were curled tightly and one wing was outstretched. I watched it for some time wondering if it was a fledgling out of the nest for exercise or an older bird that was dying. I looked up for a nest and parent birds. Nothing was evident.
Studying this poor creature, I decided it was not healthy and was probably dying. I wished I had water to give it…and wondered if it had been able to find water during the hot day. I wished I could scoop it up and take it to Audubon for treatment. I also knew that picking it up would be an additional stress which would certainly kill it. I left it, hoping a cat wouldn’t find it and continued on my way.
On my return, I checked on it again and found it on its back. It was still breathing…only lightly. I knew it would soon expire. I’ve thought of the different deaths I’ve dealt with during the past two months. Disease, accident, and incidents of age, all led to a loss and an inevitable gap in the circle of people I know. I reflected on my friend battling cancer in Idaho and of others here closer to home.
I mused on how deaths occur to animals in the natural world. Wildlife author Ernest Thompson Seton said, “The life of a wild animal always has a tragic end.” This bird would be the first I have witnessed that just falls from a tree and doesn’t have the strength or ability to save itself. No family or friend was there to help – just a passing human who let it be. I thought of the scripture where Christ says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father [knowing]. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:29-31)
My Idaho friend no longer has any head hairs to count but Heavenly Father is aware of her fight, her body and her spirit. I don’t know what or when her end will be. Or mine either. I don’t know if the little bird was old or maybe had been poisoned. It died alone, without notice. Not even by me. I had walked away after I saw that it was weakening with each moment.
I’m hoping that as we live our routine, daily lives, we are surrounded by people who care about us. I pray that when the time arrives for any one of us to leave Earth that people either known or unknown by us, will be there with us, to ease our transition through to the next life with their protection, concern and love for us. Each one of us is worth that care.
I am comforted to know that my value is greater than that of many sparrows even as they are all loved by Him, our Creator, my Father.
The ocean is too rough from the dust storm. The fishing boats are grounded. We have to camp in the rest area at DhalQut. Whenever I'm here (twice now), we have rough seas. Why is that? If we ever get in, will we be able to get out?
I convince kids to let me take pictures of their feet or their hands before I get shots of their faces. Seeing the immediate ditigal results is fun and warms them up.
The reeds and marshes near camp support an abundance of birdlife. Nephi's mount in the background.
Monday the 16th. I'm thinking about how nice the people have been. Friendly, helpful, honest and generous to a fault. They do have locks on doors so things aren't perfect. However, I am realizing how guarded I feel at home and how relaxed and safe I am here. 
And interesting trees... (not just palms)
The end of the week. We have one can of tuna left between us. The guy who was supposed to come fetch us from the beach isn't here. If he doesn't come soon, I will return to the spring waters with a different attitude. I've heard that snake tastes like chicken. (The cows will be next.)
We went by some of his lobster catching friends on the way back. Check out how beautiful the water is!! 
The rain shifted during the night. People near the outer edge of the cave had to get their sleeping pads in, closer under shelter. Our guide who was sleeping near-by, confessed later that he had awakened and saw "his children" scurrying about. He thought about offering to help but decided he would pretend to sleep through it.
I'm sorry there wasn't an object such as a shoe in the photo to give a size comparison. 
It was too dangerous for our little, hired fishing boats to take us in. We were terribly disappointed and could only imagine how perfect it must be.
