A Little Birdie Told Me

The way The Lawyer’s house is laid out you can get a nice little cross-breeze through the kitchen by opening the door to the garage and the door to the back porch.  It’s really quite lovely when the weather is nice in the fall.  Also very helpful when you’re in and out to the grill on one side and the fire pit on the other.  The door to the back porch is left open often, as the porch is screened and the possibility of critters coming in the house is greatly reduced.  Leaving open the door to the garage is a whole different story.

Over the last handful of years we’ve had a few chats with a couple different brands of birds wanting to hunker down (or honker down, as The Lawyer says) in the garage.  Apparently we leave the garage door up more than we should, or at all, and they seek warm and dry.  I tell them it’s a bad idea, that they’ll get stuck and not be able to get out, that they may meet their demise, but do they listen?

Nope.

 
This weekend was no exception.  We were prepping for the big turkey day coming up and were in and out of the kitchen a lot, so we had all the doors open.  I stepped out into the garage where The Lawyer was sanding the rust off a pair of plyers (don’t ask) and there, of course, was a little bird flittering about in the garage.  I tried to shoo him out, but with no success.  Joseph said he flew toward freedom, but I didn’t see.  Ok, I thought, we’re good.  But, were we good? 

Nope.

Little sucker flew into the house, not out the garage door. Good grief.
Poor thing went from one level of captivity to a deeper one.  All the while, I’m sure, thinking itself to be flying toward freedom. 

Houston, we have a problem.

Generally I probably wouldn’t have been quite so irritated with the little fellow, but we were butt-dragging tired from being in the kitchen for hours and ready to close up shop for the night. So much for that plan.

So I started the attempted removal process, and of course, made it worse.  Poor thing flew deeper into the house, all the way back to our bedroom.  Couldn’t have been farther from the portal to freedom. Now what. The bedroom door was open wide, offering that little creature a way back to the big world, but he just couldn’t see it. Back and forth across the room we both went, all the while we both were growing more and more weary. Ceiling fan to curtain rod, headboard to floor, under the bed and back again, we just kept repeating the same paths. Well, he went back and forth under the bed, I didn’t. Though each time the pace at which we trudged was a bit slower. Finally the little guy took a different flight plan and headed down the short hall to the bathroom. We’ll call that a win because that bathroom has an exterior door. I quickly shut us both into the bathroom and began the gentle shoo-ing toward the door. I’m telling ya, that little bird was stubborn. How in the world is he not seeing his freedom? How can his little eyes not notice the trees, bushes, bird feeder that provides him little Birdy life are just through that corridor? Is he so distracted by me and the commotion that he’s blinded to his freedom? It took a good few minutes for me to finally get his little feathered behind out the back door, and now we have just one more door to get through. See, the bathroom door turns out onto the screened porch. Little baby is out of the house, yet still confined.

This is taking longer than either of us wish. I wish he could see that. Back and forth across the porch. Floor to ceiling fan, chair to potted plant, and back again. The door was held open and he could be free at any point, but kept flying across the porch instead of through. At this point I’m having a “chat” with this little feathered friend, and he’s so tired I’m actually able to get very, very close to him, but I hadn’t worn him out quite enough to let me pick him up. Asking myself what I could do to lure him through the door to freedom, I had a brilliant idea. Get some bird seed and scatter it near the door and play to his little Birdy hunger. So I did, and it didn’t. It was like that stuff had no scent to make him think Thanksgiving dinner was ready. Darn it. So the chase kept on. I finally got him to scoot behind a giant potted plant next to the door and apparently he caught wind of the non-filtered air and bird seed. Now, he didn’t go out right then, we had one more flit to the other side of the porch, but then the little baby finally flew straight out the door.

’bout dang time. We had both had enough.

So, why tell you this long, boring tale? Because it gives us all a ton to think about. Let’s start with thinking where we are is a great place to be. That little bird thought hunkering down (or honkering down) in the warm, dry garage was the best place for itself. But was it? Nope. That little guy had no idea he’d just landed himself into a captivity from which, without help, there would ultimately be no escape. When’s the last time you really studied your surroundings? Are you captive to a place, thing, situation, person, that you thought was great at first look, but now you need to re-evaluate? Maybe you don’t even realize it’s a bad place to be. Maybe you need to look at your life place and scrutinize. Maybe you ARE in a good place and can relax a bit. That’s great! Do it!

Also think about the direction you’re going. Maybe you’re in an okay place, maybe not, but either way take a look at your direction. That little bird started doing what it does – flying – but flew in the wrong direction. It flew deeper into a problem. Take a look at the direction your choices are taking you. What you’re choosing to do, where you’re choosing to go, with whom you’re choosing to associate, all crash together to take your life in a direction. What’s your flight plan right now? You good for heading toward healthy, loving, meaningful, selfless life? Need help finding the directions toward good and not destructive? Gotta let somebody help. That little bird could have possibly found its own way out of our house, but I have to tell you, we’ve removed several dead birds from the garage and one from the inside of the house, so there’s precedent that this little guy may not have made it without the diligent help of someone who knew the way out. Find that person if you need it. There is probably so much more we could glean from this feathered frenzy, but we’ll stop for today. I’m writing this on my phone as The Lawyer slings us down the interstate in his big ole pickup truck, and I’m starting to get seasick. So, time to wrap up this excursion and leave you with things to ponder. And leave myself with things to ponder.