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A Canary for March.
Mar. 8th, 2011 12:46 pmAs a prompt for my monthly post, I drew a card from my deck and got Canary.
Canaries are highly sensitive creatures that teach us about the power of voice and awakenings.
All around me now, nature is awakening as spring is coming on. It's a fitting bird for this month, when I am surrounded by birdsong after months of relative quiet.
When I was young, we had a pet canary named Autumn. Autumn passed away tragically, victim to a stray dog we'd taken in temporarily. We had two other dogs that never bothered him and we simply didn't realize that the dog we took in happened to be a bird dog. But, for the time he was in our lives, Autumn was a constant source of joy. He flew free in the house. (Mom laid plastic wrap in all his favorite pooping places and changed them when they got too pooped on.) He would check out our food; I remember spaghetti sauce bird prints on my plate. He loved to drink the bit of soda that gathered in the lip of the can. He took baths in the sink, fluttering wings spraying water. Few things love a good bath more than a bird! So, to me, this is what a canary is, a funny, vibrant creature, much bigger than its tiny body should be able to hold, and a constant reminder of the fragility of life.
In spring, there is much birth, and, though we rarely talk about it, much death as well, with so much easy prey about for the predators, who have babies of their own to feed. Life is fragile, but that is what makes it so precious. While the fragility and the death that comes with it often bring sorrow, we must remember that the greater good is served by this; if there were no death, there would be no room for birth. We focus on the joy that this awakening of new life brings, the quickening that everything experiences thanks to the influx of new minds and hearts. The canary reminds us to sing, to lend our own unique voice to the great, eternal chorus of life, to sing for all those whose voices have stilled to make room for ours.
Canaries are highly sensitive creatures that teach us about the power of voice and awakenings.
All around me now, nature is awakening as spring is coming on. It's a fitting bird for this month, when I am surrounded by birdsong after months of relative quiet.
When I was young, we had a pet canary named Autumn. Autumn passed away tragically, victim to a stray dog we'd taken in temporarily. We had two other dogs that never bothered him and we simply didn't realize that the dog we took in happened to be a bird dog. But, for the time he was in our lives, Autumn was a constant source of joy. He flew free in the house. (Mom laid plastic wrap in all his favorite pooping places and changed them when they got too pooped on.) He would check out our food; I remember spaghetti sauce bird prints on my plate. He loved to drink the bit of soda that gathered in the lip of the can. He took baths in the sink, fluttering wings spraying water. Few things love a good bath more than a bird! So, to me, this is what a canary is, a funny, vibrant creature, much bigger than its tiny body should be able to hold, and a constant reminder of the fragility of life.
In spring, there is much birth, and, though we rarely talk about it, much death as well, with so much easy prey about for the predators, who have babies of their own to feed. Life is fragile, but that is what makes it so precious. While the fragility and the death that comes with it often bring sorrow, we must remember that the greater good is served by this; if there were no death, there would be no room for birth. We focus on the joy that this awakening of new life brings, the quickening that everything experiences thanks to the influx of new minds and hearts. The canary reminds us to sing, to lend our own unique voice to the great, eternal chorus of life, to sing for all those whose voices have stilled to make room for ours.
