| Bird Crazy |
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| Ceri Balston | |
| Tuesday, 27 September 2005 | |
I'm lucky enough to be sitting outside with my laptop, I'm working at home and it's a glorious day. I'm supposed to be working but the glories of the garden keep distracting me. Birds are swooping low over the lawn and merrily chatting to each other - everyone's busy enjoying life. I've discovered the joys of watching the busy little Weavers who seem so intent on building the perfect nest, the chattering quirky Louries who are so full of personality and the noisy and quite prehistoric looking Hadedas who love to drink from our pool and then poop in it afterwards! My interest has now developed to such an extent that I can recognise many of the different bird calls and even find myself jumping out of my chair in the office to track down a Hoopoe or a Crested Barbet that I heard in some corner of the garden. I do have to admit though, after one day claiming to be quite an expert on bird-calls, that my wife asked me what all the vigorous Lourie chatting was - I simply replied, "They're doing it". I could spend hours sitting and watching these guys, especially now that Spring is fully underway. We are even lucky enough to have a Laughing Dove (quickly looked that up to make sure that I wasn't confusing it with a pigeon) nesting on a pillar just a couple of metres outside our office at the moment. We first noticed her about three weeks ago and she just sat in the same spot on her nest for almost two of those. Then the most amazing thing happened - two little, semi-naked chicks hatched. We spent the whole of lunchtime that day with our binoculars watching as they stuck their beaks into their mother's. Somehow their regurgitated lunch didn't put us off ours! My funniest encounter with our feathered friends occurred just a couple of months ago. I found a little abandoned bird that seemed to have just left the nest and was trying to fly. I spent some time watching it flutter around my car before I had to rescue it from my cat who seemed to be suddenly interested in what I was up to. After some gentle reassurance my little friend stopped shaking in my hand and seemed to be quite happy, he even perked up a little and looked like he wanted a chat. I decided that it was time to have a flying lesson and so we went outside, and holding my arm out high I let it jump out of my hand. It was a wonderful sight as it swooped around in circles, only it was getting lower and lower until finally it very gracefully crash landed in my pool! I managed to rescue it and we went through the same process another two times, but no matter where we started from the little fella insisted that his place was in the pool. I don't know, maybe he thought he was the ugly duckling who would turn into a swan one day. I just felt like a failed father who couldn't teach his son how to ride a bike! That story ended with me putting him back amongst the bushes in the hope that he would be found again by his Mum and that he would finally be able to learn to soar amongst his kin. The two little Pigeons have grown loads now, are covered in feathers and seem to take up the whole nest. I'm looking forward to the day when they decide its time to fly away, I just hope I'm there to stop my cat trying to help. |
This is the powerful story of the author's struggle with Multiple Sclerosis and how a healer's unusual prescription of mindful altruism - to 'give away 29 gifts in 29 days' - ignited her energy, her happiness, and invited more abundance into her life.
