Published: October 10, 2008 09:21 pm      

Hope came this week on a wing and a prayer

Inside Out

Well, things are pretty much back to normal — well, as normal as they get at my house.

The weather warmed up enough to give Chopper and Miss Pitypat a tomato juice bath, which works wonders to remove skunk odor. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the little stinker who came, ate all their food, left his calling card and moved on.

My latest collision with wildlife came literally about mid-week when I got dive-bombed by a really big bird. I heard a sound behind me, and just about the time I turned around — whoomph — something hit my shoulder, sending a flurry of feathers everywhere.

I guessed the bird that lay heaving on the ground might be a turkey buzzard. They’re not much to look at, but they’re awesome in flight. Like eagles, they love to ride on wind currents. Just before a summer storm, a flock of them has often captured my rapt attention, gliding in near unison in a silent flight just above the treetops.

Now, one loner lay on its back, vulnerable and scared, just inches away from my feet. He was safe as far as I was concerned, but I had no idea how I could help if the bird were injured.

Hoping some recovery time would be enough to get the bird airborne again, I backed away and stayed quiet, while my mind raced through Plan B. I have a rabbit cage in which I could contain the bird and hopefully get it to someone who could help it.

Just how I would get it into the cage was too much to process at the moment.

As much as I respected this winged wonder, I also had great fear of its huge beak and formidable claws.

I began to pray, asking God to help the bird recover and to show me what to do in case He wanted to use human intervention. I prayed aloud in a calm voice, hoping to reassure the fallen fowl I meant it no harm.

Within a few moments, the bird stirred slightly and rolled itself into a nesting position. I picked up a small tree branch that had blown down into the yard and nudged it gently under the bird. Moving tentatively, it stepped onto the makeshift roost. Surprisingly, it remained still as I raised the roost and bird slowly toward a nearby tree. When the perch was even with a low limb, the bird climbed aboard and rested there a few minutes.

Soon it slowly raised two mammoth wings into a full span. There appeared to be no broken bones or injuries. My heart soared, and I breathed a prayer of relief when my new friend lifted itself effortlessly off the limb and flew flawlessly to a higher limb in a poplar tree.

As it took to the sky, and I watched its dark form disappear into a fading skyline, I thought of Isaiah 40:31 — “Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles.”

Sometimes hope comes to us on a wing and a prayer.

— E-mail: bdavis@register-herald.com