Prayers For a Tiny Finch

The past few days I have had a finch with an injured wing hanging around at my bird feeders. She hangs with the rest of the group, sort of, for when they all come to eat, she is there. When they are gone she is gone. But for the most part she hangs out alone, not in duos like some of them. My heart is getting quite attached to her as I have been trying to catch her so that I can take her to the Grass Valley Wildlife rehab to get some medicine. But today I fear it is too late.

She can still fly. Not well, but she can, which is why I cannot get her. She sits high up on one of the plum tree branches on a branch that is getting sun. She is puffed up today, a bad sign. Her wing joint has an abscess that is caused by some kind of injury, perhaps hitting a window or the angry peck of a bird fighting for food, I'm not sure. But this is the 5th or 6th day of me watching her, hoping the best for her, saying actual prayers for her.

Eloise Wilkin's Bird book

From Eloise Wilkin's book, Prayers for Children

Prayers. I have an odd collection of friends with all kinds of spiritual beliefs. Mine are my own. I grew up Mormon but left those beliefs around age 17. I tried out a few different spiritual ideas and practices and gatherings in my 20s, but I always felt lured back to the ideas and teachings of Jesus. His teachings resonated truth for me, promoting unconditional love and working hard and being kind and not being afraid. Despite wandering around in my spiritual ways, I always believed in some kind of a God, and no, despite considering myself a "mystic Christian", I do not believe God is a man in the sky. Not even close. I also don't believe God is a he. God is whatever IT would like to be, since it can create sky and atmosphere and move mountains and is in everything everywhere. My personal version of God is pure magic. God is the part of DNA that scientist can't quite nail down, the ALIVE part! But if you ask me, one must believe in actual magic to believe truly in God. I once heard two scientist argue this God DNA debate on NPR. Pretty sure this guy was involved in that debate, Francis Collins, head of the Human Genome Project. He is a scientist with a point of view quite similar to mine.

For me, God is everywhere, and that means magic is everywhere. Nothing is normal, everything is filled with actual magic. The littlest finch: actual fluttering, breathing magic. Each feather... magic. Our perfect bones and the veins and muscle connecting them, magic. A life code, a magic spell (that's how I think of it in my funny brain) that makes everything ALIVE.  For me, God IS "the universe", and sometimes I do use that new-agey cheesy phrase as I know it is more all-encompassing and doesn't share the negative or narrower connotations that the word "God" often does.

 And it makes me so sad that the word "Christian" has turned into a word that often evokes extremely negative thoughts. Even for myself sometimes. I like to say I am a Christ-follower instead. Or, as I stated before, "Mystic Christian" because somehow the word mystic, such an amazing word, immediately cancels out any sour connotation that Christian might bring up... by sour connotations you all know what I mean. Angry faces driving trucks that say "Jesus Hates Gays" (if all this heaven business is true those people are gonna GET THEIRS when Jesus actually slaps their faces, repeatedly)... and other churchy sorts of "christian" people who speed up to hit squirrels, yell "get a job!" at homeless people, spend all of their free time judging other people, shopping at malls, and panicking that others will steal from them or hurt them, and generally prove how hard and fearful their hearts are on a daily basis. These fake and/or angry Christian types have pretty much ruined the real point here. They are often mad instead of appreciating and enjoying the life that their "God" supposedly granted them. What a great way to insult your maker! Be mad ALL the time at everything! Never focus on what's amazing and beautiful and the kindness of humans and the goodness in the world. I know if anything these kinds of angry holier-than-thou people send many of my close friends shuddering at the word "Christian", a sad phenomenon indeed. J himself is probably very saddened. I mean c'mon, the man hung out with thieves and prostitutes in REAL life and loved them, A LOT. Kindness was his daily bread! I just don't get how being mad at the government, at the world, at other people's lives has anything to do with being a spiritual person! I'm sure many of you agree.

To me, gratitude is the greatest expression of constant prayer. Constantly being in awe and thankful for this amazing, heart-pumping, sun-rising, earth-moving thing called life. And gratitude happens when you are not only happy, it happens when you are overjoyed.

My little finch with the injured wing

Sitting in the plum tree

ANYWAYS. Sorry the tangent from my main subject here, my tiny finch friend. So I pray to the Great Spirit of God when I pray for a tiny bird. I say things like "Great Spirit, I know you already have it all worked out, that everything is OK, that everything is beautiful, but could you PLEASE, just this once, let this little bird get better for my sake? The hope it would give me! Seeing something in nature overcome for once, instead of wither! But if not, God, it's OK, for I know the world is beautiful and all the goodness lasts forever... but... PLEASE?" It's kind of like The Smiths song Please Please Please, which yes I have covered at a show and plan to do so again. Man I love that song. 

But today I know I'm not gonna get my way. This little bird is gonna go. If it would only let me catch it I have even hooked up with a wildlife rehab lady who I just have to call and meet her with the bird. But it's probably too late. Once a bird is puffed up all the time, they are fighting to stay warm, and this little gal is puffed up today. I kind of wish a Sharp Shinned Hawk would just swoop out of the sky and take her, I would feel better about that. But not this. Not this hanging on for days... If I ever die (smiley face) I do hope I go quickly.

The finch page in the Birds book

Another little prayer

So I said another bird prayer. "God whY?? Why does she have to hang on for days? What lesson could be in this, since every tiny thing under the sun happens for a reason? Why does she have to stay alive while suffering for so long?" And for that, my heart had a sudden answer.


I can never know what a bird consciousness feels like. But I will try to imagine. And suddenly I see that this little bird who has been so strong still has a tiny reason for being here. But the reasons are all her own, they exist as surely as the sun rises and the ecosystems of nature function. Perhaps it is the yellow leaves, which match her underbelly, falling to the ground that gives this little bird some kind of peace. Perhaps it is endless days of warmth, the blue blue sky and the sun rising to greet her, even in late October, that she was made to stay alive to witness. Perhaps it is some tiny thing she does that is synchronistic that keeps another bird from getting hit by a car or plucked from the sky. Perhaps it is where she will fall in the earth, her feathered body nourishing the ground where earthworms will be pulled up by the spring birds next year. Perhaps it is all of these things.

The view from the tree by my kitchen window feeder

No matter what the tiny reasons, I know they exist. I know everything happens for a reason, and no matter how it hurts or how we don't want it, in the end it is for the Good. I know this like a resonation from my heart. I don't even care if it is not true, it is what I must believe, and how good it feels to know it! The evolution of everything, the birth and death of things, it all is for good. And someday I do believe I will understand exactly why.

I like to think that in the evenings she roosts with the other finches, cuddled close to them and warm. I surely hope so. Even if last night was her last.

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And from all this... I have decided to build fall winter roost boxes! I read a lot about it last night, and because people are so gung-ho about cutting down diseased or dying trees, birds have many many less places to roost, especially when they need to stay warm in the winter. Roost boxes are different than nest boxes, and I am going to make one. Also if you have a love of birds, do hesitate when cutting down trees of any kind. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology leads the nation in research, education and understanding the life of birds and they have information and blueprints on how to make nest boxes (for spring) and roost boxes (for autumn, winter). I got a jigsaw and a sander for my birthday last year and planned on making cutting boards and crafts, but now I realize, I'm destined to create snuggly homes for birds.

Sweet animal love and bright stars to you all.

Happy Bird-day to me! (giving thanks to the natural world)

At the last minute we decided that it would be worth a try to go on a birthday trip for my, gulp... 38th. I'll just pretend I just wrote 28th. But... I could refer to my old blog post called "Age is just another word for how long rad things have been happening to you" which incidently references trying to get pregnant (and failing at the time), my first time to the Elkhorn Slough (the subject matter of this post now) and sisterhood with my sister (and the fear of not having daughters). I believe I was 35 when I wrote the dang thing.

Anyhow, on to current affairs. I am in the midst of reading Refuge, by Terry Tempest Williams, who I like to think of as a kindred spirit to me. And to my family. Well, I feel a kinship to her that is like family. I have only read some of "Red" before Refuge but I went to see her speak in December and it was she that sparked the realization that my son would be named Utah, or Vyvian Utah, since Art won on the first name.

Utah originates from an Apache Indian word (yuttahih), which means "one that is higher up." Europeans thought the word refered to Indians living higher in the mountains than the Navajo - the territory became known as the land of the Utes, and eventually Utah." from statesymbolsusa.org

Anyhoo, whilst struggling through my personal postpartum hell in those first six months, I found that watching birds became a source of solace and happiness for me. For a few months I forgot how and why to love most of the things that I used to love, but nature and birdwatching still made my spirit smile. The desert still lured me. The outdoors felt invigorating still, especially when the sun shone. Wildlife became more of a cornerstone for me than ever. I have loved watching the birds for a few years now, but I really got into it while feeling sort of trapped in my living room, less able to get around with my birth injury and my baby. And so from the deck of our Nevada City house and down in the garden I would try to see what I could see with my binoculars. I was especially thrilled at the frequent visits of a Great Blue Heron and a Red-shouldered Hawk that would perch right outside on the bare tree branches. Right before we moved out I often saw Mourning Doves and more finches and sparrows. And of course the hummingbirds were in action daily.

He blends into the white of the water, but there she (or he) is.

I also would drive to other neighborhoods that got sun for longer than ours did to see and hear the birds at sunset, walking around with my boy in the Beco carrier, pulling out the binoculars and both the boy and I just listening to the sweet chirpage. He has always loved nature walks, and I am so very grateful for that! He loved his first real hike in Joshua Tree, and then our bird walks, hikes in Yellowstone, walks around our neighborhood now (I finally got a backpack with a real frame!) I hope he is a bird lover like me!

Walking downhill in the Morgan Ranch neighborhood, which has fantastic open sky and sunset views.

View from Morgan Ranch neighborhood walk

So for my birthday on the 10th I wanted to head to the Elkhorn Slough Estuarine Reserve which is about thirty minutes south of Santa Cruz, near the town of Moss Landing. There are hundreds of species of birds that hang out here, it is one of the top ten spots in the United States for birding and the amount of bird species. Sadly, when we arrived on Tuesday (my birthday) the actual reserve was closed! It is closed Mondays and Tuesdays... But nature herself was not closed. :) So we took a detour and went to Moss Landing State Beach and walked along the inlet there by a little bay. We saw all the same birds that would have been accessible through the reserve and I had so much fun! Utah did too, and Art. We met up with my long time dear friend Ruebi and her son Nico, since they live not far and I do not get to see them enough as it is

I forgot my Birds of Northwest America book so I was trying to get my Audubon app to work on my iPhone to identify the birds when we happened upon some informational signs as we walked. I was so happy to find out the names of exactly which birds were all around us, as the app can be very hard to narrow down the species you are looking at! And I was even happier because I had taken notice of one specific bird with an almost needle thin long curved beak (it curves slightly downward). I found out that it is called the "long billed curlew" and it just so happened to be the name of the exact chapter I was reading in "Refuge"! I was thrilled with the synchronicity of it all. Not only did the informational signs show pictures and descriptions of the birds in the vicinity, but also the food sources for the birds, most of which live beneath the wet sand.

In the year 2000 I had come to the slough once before on a biology class trip (with my sister- it was awesome) and I remembered learning about the "innkeeper worm" as we kayaked through the slough. The class was led by Mike Denega, a terrific professor and biologist, who now heads up "Classrooms without Walls" for Folsom Lake College. Anhow, this cool innkeeper worm,  it lives exactly beak's length below the sand! A perfect dinner for the marbled godwits and the long billed curlews... We even got to watch them slurping up the worms.

If you are interested in nature and science I highly recommend a visit to Moss Landing and the slough!

My boy kept getting sidetracked!

Mostly you can see Marbled Godwits and Least Sandpipers here, but the long billed curlews are in there too!

Here we are perched along an algae filled inlet that a footpath led over. There were small birds I didn't identify here.

Nico was a huge fan of my binoculars. It was so cute. He was really good at focusing right in on the birds! Suddenly I got very excited to be a mama to a little boy! Perhaps if Ruebi and her sweet little family move to Nevada City little Nico can be of a good scientific influence on my Ute. Not pictured here is my sweet Arth, who took most of the photos!

Here at the docks you can see two pelicans and a sea otter! I got to watch these pelicans fishing and gulping down their dinner. I love having binoculars!  

On the docks. This boy was fascinated by the seal faces that would pop up out of the water. They looked like little subhumans swimming toward us. 

Here is one of the friendly seals. It was so cool that the seals and sea otters hung out so close to each other.

A snowy egret

 I am so grateful that the book Refuge by Terry Tempest Williams led me to this magical place for my birthday! It was renewing to my 38 year old soul to walk the slough with Art and Ruebi and our boys. All in all I identified about 7 kinds of birds. Avocets, Snowy Egrets, Brown Pelicans, American White Pelicans, Marbled Godwits, Long Billed Curlews, and Least Sandpipers. There were tiny birds I have yet to identify.
There is a part in Refuge that stands out to me, it is a letter from Terry's mother (who is dying of cancer) to her, sent from the wild lands of Switzerland. She has been hiking with her husband, Terry's father, and remembers a time they visited Hawaii.
It reads:

When we went to Hawaii for the first time, nineteen years ago, we ran and embraced it all. We didn't just look at the ocean, we dove into the waves and tasted salt water on our lips. We greeted the sunrise on the crater in Maui and looked out over thousands of miles. I'll swear we saw the curvature of the earth. We celebrated each day by walking along the beach, picking up shells. We ran into the wind and fell on to the sand, watching the tiny sandpipers dart back and forth. 

And we are doing that now. We are hiking up and down the Alps together, walking farther than I ever thought possible. We have slept on the grass next to cows with bells around their necks. We have walked thigh-high in wildflowers. The natural world is a third party in our marriage. It holds us close and lets us revel in the intimacy of all that is real. 

Although Art is not into the wilderness the way that I am, I swear the years will convert him. The magic and beauty and miracle of the natural world is contagious and captivating. But besides that, here is a letter from a woman that knows her death is pursuing her. And even during such a struggle inside her soul, wilderness brings her solace and wonder. No wonder it has been my crutch through my darker days. It has a power that is unrivaled. Now that I have come out on the other side and feel filled with my old vigor and enthusiasm for life I can feel the power of that nature far more than ever.

And from the Good Book.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

I interpret this as the power of duality and paradox in life. The more I accept my darker and weaker times, the more I am able to revel in the beauty that is around me now that I have moved on. One could never know the true feeling of hot if they never felt what icy cold is like. One could never know the real brilliance of light if they had never experienced a dark dark moonless night. These ups and downs make my heart deeper, stronger, and more aware. For this I am so grateful for my struggles, painful as they have been.  I am humbled by beauty and happiness after such a dark internal struggle has happened. I never thought I could be more grateful than the gratitude I experienced for life before having a baby. but I was wrong. I think I might be the most thankful person in all the world now. Thankful for the miracles in nature everywhere around me. Thankful to be alive. Thankful for my baby boy. Thankful for my absolutely wonderful friends and family. Thankful to Art, who has put up with the hardest parts of me. Thankful to the Great Spirit that moves in all things.

I will continue my geekiness by returning to this and other bird reserves as often as possible. There are so many to discover in California, so I hear! The fire has been stoked and is now burning at full speed in my heart.

Mamas and their boys. I had such an amazing time and I wish I could have spent so much more time with Ruebi and Nico.