An Avian Omen

I had thought that my next post would be from Greece, but something happened just before I left that I want to share with you.

I was rather anxious about the whole adventure, uncertain of where I was headed, so on the day I was due to leave I took a little time to walk in my sister’s garden – I was staying at her home in England – to calm my mind and to ask the Universe to help me approach the coming challenge with grace. Spring flowers were just beginning to bloom in the garden: snowdrops, a few early crocuses and even a violet or two. I wandered around, and came near the fence along the side of the garden. It’s a six-foot high palisade fence with overlapping vertical wooden slats.

As I approached, a blackbird fluttered against the fence. I thought it was just taking flight and I wondered if it was nest-building in the garden. Now the blackbird, you may know, is the prime songster in English gardens at this time of year, and it’s a handsome bird: a little larger than an American robin, entirely jet black with a vivid yellow beak and a yellow ring around each eye. Blackbirds are a delight for the ears and the eyes!

Here's a photograph I took of a blackbird
at the Findhorn Foundation in Scotland in 2013

But this one didn’t take off; it just flapped against the fence and as I approached I saw that it had managed to trap one of it legs between two of the slats. It was firmly stuck, and panicking. I approached and reached out to help it. The first thing it did was to peck me with that magnificent yellow beak, just once, and it didn’t do any harm. I clasped the bird gently, holding both wings in to the body. It shrieked, then grew calm. It must have taken me about a minute, cradling the little feathered body, to push and pull the slats of the fence far enough apart to release the foot. The instant its foot came free, it took off, escaping my grasp and disappearing into the nearest hedge. I found it greatly satisfying to see it fly free.

I have rarely, if ever, in my life had the privilege of really helping a wild bird, so I couldn’t help feeling that this was a sign from the Universe, a good omen to overlight my Greek adventure.