It was the fall after our special needs dachshund, Frankie passed away that we went on a much needed vacation to Vermont. A place I’d always wanted to visit when the autumn colors are in their peak. It didn’t disappoint.
It felt like I’d been transported to another realm as we drove into the city we were staying (which I don’t recall the name now!) We were surrounded by oodles of trees with their leaves gloriously showing off their warm colors of burnt orange, crimson red, and golden yellow.
While there we stayed at a darling red cabin about five minutes from town. Just over the small bridge was a bookstore where I’d miss by one day seeing author Jon Katz.
But it was also while staying at the charming cabin that I fell in love with the black cast iron woodstove that sat angled in the corner of the living room. I just knew I’d have to have one. It was the epitome of cozy and what would now be deemed as a home and fashion theme called, “Cottagecore.”
It was about a year later that this dream came to fruition. Our woodstove, while used often for about the first two fall and winter seasons, but then not as much as I went through my menopausal years, eventually looped back to us once again enjoying it.
Yesterday afternoon with the breeze softly blowing through the living room patio screen door, I laid down for a short nap. I’d just drifted off to sleep when I heard a tapping noise. In my sleepy state I thought perhaps it was outside. After looking around and not seeing anything, I closed my eyes once again.
A few moments later I heard the same tapping noise. This time when I opened my eyes I caught a reflection of movement coming from inside the woodstove. My first thought was, oh no, a mouse is stuck in the stove!
As I moved closer I could see a creature sitting on the iron peg inside the stove, but still I wasn’t exactly sure what it was. But as I peeked in, I then noticed it was a sparrow! All these years we’ve had this stove and this was a first.
How was I going to help this little bird get out of there? I was distraught with concern. I texted John telling him about the situation.
While I waited to hear back I decided to do a search on the internet for advice. A few different options were offered, but one thing was for sure. That sparrow was not going to go out the way it came in. One thing I didn’t know was that you shouldn’t shine a flashlight into the eyes of a bird as it can blind it. Check. Good to know.
But the little bird had gotten scared when I looked in and flew onto the shelf space that rests at the end of the chimney pipe.
John finally texted back a few moments later asking if the bird was still in the stove. Um, yes, because I wasn’t sure what to do. I also felt it may be best that we had a two person team to save the sparrow. He was on his way home to help.
Sitting back down on the couch my mind was filled with worry. Especially because the bird had grown quiet. I was concerned that perhaps it might have had a heart attack.
But then I stopped myself as my mind had been looping with racing thoughts of worse case scenarios. That wasn’t helping. So I made a conscious decision to calm down and get more grounded.
A few moments later, now more centered, I got up and closed the doors to our bedroom, bathroom, laundry room and John’s office. One suggestion I’d read was to open a front and back door to the house so the bird could find its way out.
But what if it didn’t? I reminded myself to stay calm and not drum up unnecessary bad juju.
John arrived home and at first suggested getting a large garbage bag and quickly placing it over the stove door once we opened it hoping the bird would fly into it and we could release it outside. But then he changed his mind and came up with what I’d originally found in my research and to open the doors on either end of the house.
Now that we had a plan we had to coax the tiny bird out of the dark hollow it was sitting in. So I grabbed a bamboo stick, slowly opened the front of the stove, shined the flashlight inside just enough to see where the bird was, and then gently nudged that sweet little bird with the end of the bamboo stick.
Before we could even react, out from that soot filled stove it came…
and straight as an arrow…
as if under the intense pressure of kicking the winning field goal in a tied Super Bowl game…
out into the land of freedom it flew once again! SCORE!!
John and I high-fived to an ending I didn’t expect, but was thrilled to have witnessed.
The (HAPPY) End.
XO
Barb
