I spent all day yesterday working in the rain. There was lawn mowing and hedge trimming to be done, lot's of it. The trouble with wet grass is that it clogs up the mower every few yards or so, and makes it a painfully slow, not to mention messy process. In a strangely masochistic way, the hedge trimming gave some occasional respite from it though.
I came home late in the afternoon, really tired, and as I was just driving the last few yards, a sparrow hit the windscreen of the van. I checked my mirror but it looked dead in the road. I hate it when things get killed when I am driving, even when it happens accidentally. I parked up outside home and ran back to the little fellow in the road, planning to at least put it in the garden for it's final resting place. It was quite still, and I picked it up gently and carried it back. As I walked, one of it's eyes opened, but it just lay there. My worst thought now was that it had survived, but was critically injured. I knocked on our front door to show Amanda, and as she came out, we both looked on the tiny creature as it lay in my hands. It's beak moved, both eyes opened, a minute or so later it's legs twitched, and then it was gone. I don't know how it survived such a hard bang, but it did.
I'm so happy that it made it, and in the spring when new life is in abundance in the garden.
I came across this as I sit here with my morning tea, and look at the spectacular orange of the deciduous Azalea outside the window. I like the authors comment about it only creating positive emotions in whoever watches it.
Enjoy your day.