Thursday, March 17, 2011
There was a bird in the basement this morning.
It was a sparrow. It didn't seem hurt or sick; it was just a normal little sparrow. When I approached, it flitted from the floor to the sink to the top of a shelf.
"Why are you here, little bird? It's beautiful weather outside. Spring's coming!" I opened the door to garden and went back upstairs, closing the basement door behind me. When I went back down an hour later, it was gone.
I wondered how long it had been down there. How hungry was it? Or thirsty?
That made me think of my ceramic birdbath, which I store under the porch over the winter. I dragged it out, washed it and filled it with water.
As I turned around, there was another bird. Not the little sparrow, but a robin. It was in the bed where the garlic is just starting to peek up and it was eyeing me, curiously.
I wondered what it was thinking. "Why are you here, little lady? You've got a nice basement in there. And laundry's piling up!"
No, probably not. But I should throw a load in anyway.
Posted by Jill Holly et al. at 1:40 PM