The Artist of
POSSIBILITY
Magazine
May 15, 2024

Passer the Sparrow: A story of rest and recuperation

Writing by Judith Marsden
She flew into the house, the pokey little thing, likely looking for treats or a convenient thoroughfare. Her name was Passer and to her little mind she was Passer the-passer-through. Unfortunately, she takes a new flight path and becomes discombobulated in navigating her exit.

A huge human begins to approach, watching her as she gets caught between a blind and the window.

Her paradigm has violently shifted… one moment you can fly free in the clear blue sky, the next an unseen force prevents you.

Panic stricken she flies off and again bangs into a window. Her world is upside down, her reality is no more. Fatigue sets in as time after time she bangs against the glass. Even more disconcerting, the huge human is following her every move.

Exhausted, she clings to a window frame. She is confused and scared. Shock is setting in, and the paradigm shift enhances as the huge human offers a finger and without understanding why, she steps onto it. There's nothing she can do now but sit on this warm branch of a human hand and wait for reality to return to normal.

Her fight/flight response has gone; only the freeze state remains. She needs rest and
recuperation, time for introspection, time to collect herself.

Her breathing is fast and furious, her beak open, her eyes wide in disbelief. Five minutes pass and I hold her there upon my finger waiting for the calm after the storm. Waiting for her return to this dimension.

I walk outside to show her the sky. There is no invisible force here to prevent her escape and so I wait. I speak to her without words, I admire her bravery, I tell her she is safe, I acknowledge her beauty but most of all I honor her visit into my life.

Three more minutes and she finally looks around. I can see that she is back, back to this reality where wild birds do not sit on human fingers, where the sky is open and free for sparrow flight.

One quick glance into my eyes, into the depths of my being, and with a confused and yet distinct gratitude, she takes off and flies away….

Oh, how free, how free to be, through rest and recuperation. Goodbye Passer the Sparrow, I wish you well.

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