The View from a Drawbridge

At work I often sit with the window open. I enjoy the fresh air, and it also makes it easier to hear the boats if they use their horns to signal that they want me to open the drawbridge. Just outside the window is a large metal box that used to house some past machinery. Since then it’s often been commandeered as a bird’s nest.

One day I was sitting at the desk, engrossed in my laptop, probably writing a blog entry, when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over, and there was a starling sitting on the counter.

“Oh, my. Hello,” I said. “Uh… shoo?”

The bird just looked at me. I thought that if I walked calmly toward him, perhaps he would fly back out the window.

But no. My approach caused the bird to panic and flutter against the walls and ceiling, and then he flew down the stairwell, which, in this case, was a dead end. The only way I could get to the door to let him out that way was to corner him, and I knew that wasn’t going to work.

What to do. What to do. How was I going to get that bird out of there without hurting him? I thought about throwing a towel over him to pick him up. But he was already stressed enough without my trying that sort of ambush.

Then I thought, “Wait a minute. This bird has survived without your intervention up to this point. Maybe you ought to just let him figure out his own path.” So I went back to the desk, sat down, and resumed typing. I had an 8 hour shift ahead of me. Surely the little guy would find the window in that amount of time.

And sure enough, he did.

As he flew away I realized that bird had brought a lesson with him. Maybe I don’t have to fix everything. Maybe sometimes I ought to let nature take its course. Maybe I don’t always know best.

Sometimes I need a reminder of these things.

It just goes to show that you can’t predict how life lessons will show up at your door.