It was destined to happen.
In the 31 years that I've owned my home, I have quite a few times buried in our yard, primarily under the corner forsythia bush, the few tiny, deceased animals that I've found outside our fence or within the confines of our yard, a few maimed and killed by our late but great miniature dachshund, Jeffrey (1995-2012). One frigid morning, I noticed from our deck stairs a sparrow laying beneath the above-mentioned bush. I cautiously walked upon the ground covered with frozen snow and checked it out. The bird was motionless, its eyes still open. It had indeed passed on. When it comes to me and times like this, there are those few moments where you just continue to look, wonder what happened (I suspected here the bird had possibly frozen to death), and wish that things could be different. Just a few hours earlier, this bird may have been, along with the others, enjoying the food I place in the feeder every morning. Now, as its companions chirped and hopped from branch to branch in the nearby bush, it was gone. It was my first "winter burial" and, this time minus a shovel when I truly needed one most, I summoned the aid of one if my daughter's beach shovels from her childhood and dug a 4" to 5" hole, gently put the bird inside, made a cross out of two ice-covered twigs and placed them on the bird, blessed (like I have many times) it with prayers, and covered it with the frozen soil. From that day forward, when I fill the tiny birdbath near the burial spot with water, I ponder how the overflow nourishes the ground, perhaps is even reaching the bird's resting spot, as well as that of the other birds and bunnies that rest beneath this spot of land. Fast forward a month, and winter has turned to spring, the weather is warming, and now fresh, new greenery - grass and weeds - is sprouting out of the ground. This birth (rebirth, if you will) reminds me of a book I read when I was a child, when a young girl's rabbit had died and she was dreading burying it, the separation much too sad for her to bear. Her mother explained to her that the rabbit had done its job on earth, bringing the girl much happiness. She then said that rabbit's job now was to show love to other existence, for when buried it would join forces with the soil, rainfall, and sunshine to produce beautiful growth in the form of flowers, and continue to bring happiness to their home and passersby. The bird in my yard is now living that love. Steve
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Steve Sears is a New Jersey based freelance writer
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