A particular Stellar Jay has figured out--as best he can based on his size--how to get seed from our bird feeder. It's not easy for him, as he has to clutch the tiny stick, hanging upside down, and then pull his head to the aperture, pecking one, two, trying to get some seed. He flutters, he gulps, and then he lets go, flying off.
I am sure this little scene is a metaphor for something very profound. Barely hanging on, getting a little bit of something, and then letting go. The letting go likely feels better than the getting of seed, except, of course, he's full for about two seconds.
The little birds (chickadees, nuthatches, titmice, juncos) fit just fine on the sticks, eating away. This is their universe, their feeder, fit for them. Show up, eat, move on, come back. Maybe there is a metaphor here, too, doing something that is easy, well, is easy. And should one look a gift horse in the mouth? Or in the seed dispenser, as it were?
So am I hanging on, pulling my head to the seed or just eating what is easy?
Or is there a middle feeder, a middle bird somewhere? Maybe a Towhee, crunched down, but standing upright on the stick. A bit too big, but managing to get the seed anyway?
I'm not sure. But I'm thinking about it.
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org