Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Beyond My Poetry Year (or, I Failed at One Thing and Succeeded at Another)

In which Your Humble Blogger briefly discusses why she's more suited to staying inside and writing instead of, say, going outside and trying to help injured birds:

I initially thought that today's post was going to be nothing more than a quick, dirty thing that I got done early in the morning. We're in the thick of work over here, so I wanted to meet my posting obligation as minimally as possible before going on to what I had to do.

That was before my morning got taken up by me finding a beautiful cedar waxwing outside, sitting on the sidewalk with one wing askew.

After running back to the house, getting some info, and waiting about twenty minutes for it to fly away, I headed back to find the bird still there, at which point I called the Chicago Bird Collision Monitors (a name that makes me think of auto body repair specialists), who instructed me to try to get the bird into a box so that a volunteer could come get it.

Here's something I didn't know until today: Birds with an injured wing can still muster up enough flight to get into a tree, out of your reach, as you approach to pick them up. Seems I was too slow in scooping it up. I also didn't mention before that I had found the bird outside of a neighbor's house while I was on a quick walk. The tree that it flew into, then, was in someone else's yard other than mine. D'oh. So much for keeping an eye on it.

I thought that this meant the bird was in better shape than I had initially thought, but when I called the rescue group back to inform them that the bird had flown off, the response of the woman on the phone was, "Oh, that's a shame. It'll probably die that way."

Wha? Gaaaaa!

That was my morning. Not very successful. So it seems a little perverse to share the tidbit of joy that I had initially planned on posting, but here we go anyway: Remember my red notebook?

I finished it the other night. Filled it up. As you can see, it's not all poetry, but getting to the end of a 256-page notebook still made me feel good. In fact, I was pretty darn happy at the idea of finishing it. Almost as if I was soaring. Flying a little.


Aaaaaand we've come back down.


  1. I don't remember yer red notebook, but I'm excited that it's filled!
    And your story strikes a definite chord with me, as Amy found a bird in our backyard, also with wing askew. Afraid to touch it, she nonetheless brought out a small cup of birdseed and some water for the bird, which had hidden itself behind a Hosta. The next day, she spied the bird hopping along, and it found its way under the fence into the neighbor's yard...

  2. Aw! How kind of Amy to try to help it out. It's always rough when you want to take care of something and make sure it's alright, but it takes off out of your sight. I guess you just hope for the best.

    As an aside, all of this talk has put the Beatles' "Blackbird" in my head. :p

  3. Oh no!! I think I'm most disturbed by the operator's response >< ! Not cool. You did the best you could with the information you were given -- and it's likely that phonenumber will be a good one to have handy in the future. (I do love the name -- very strange.)

    Congrats on finishing the book -- what an accomplishment! Good luck to you both on your deadlines -- give yourself some time to relax tonight and recoup from the wildlife kerfuffle. Those kinds of things are pretty emotionally draining.

  4. They certainly can be, it seems! Glad to hear I'm not alone in feeling that way sometimes. However, such things are made better by little joys. Like reading a word like "kerfuffle."

    It was jarring to hear that from the operator, but she was also very willing to put me in contact with other volunteers who live in the area and who could have picked up poor Waxy, and she did kindly thank me for keeping an eye out for situations like that. Some people are just a little more... frank, I suppose, about possible outcomes. >.< So it goes!

  5. I am constantly having to remind myself that people who volunteer with animals are not always best with people (and I certainly count myself among that group ;) ). I'm glad to hear she was otherwise pleasant -- she must've sensed you were a kindred spirit and let down her "talking to the public" filter!