If you remember my post Baby Birds & Bad Days, this is a follow-up to that.
To bring you up to speed, a dummy (me) was trimming a tree (palm trees are jerks still, by the way) and disturbed a bird nest. One baby bird was dead, likely from a heart attack from the traumatic disturbance, but one survived.
I took the bird to a nearby animal refuge and handed it over. I still thought of the bird on occasion, because contrary to what some people might think, I’ve got a sensitive side. This is especially true when it comes to animals, so much so that it’s slightly amazing I’m not a vegetarian. If I were faced with having to slaughter my own food, I’m not entirely certain I could.
(I should say that I acknowledge that the luxury of that opinion is the product of having grown up in a time in human history where we don’t even need to go to a butcher’s shop for food, but can purchase it in shrink wrapped sterility. I’m fairly certain that if I grew up in a different era, I’d be able to sling bacon with the best of them.)
Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised the other day when I got a text message from the worker at the animal refuge who took possession of the box in which I’d transported the bird. The text message simply read that the bird, which turned out to be a dove, had grown up healthily and had been released back into the wild.
It was a nice note to get. It’s a gentle reminder that good things happen all the time. You might be focused on the negative, but that doesn’t mean the surprising positive can’t find you.
There’s a larger insight I’d share from that, but I’d rather take the moment simply to accept this bit of news and remember that even bad days can have good outcomes.