Death of a Sparrow

I came across a circle of sparrows on a sidewalk, all directing their attention, and concern, toward the centre. Laying in it was a dying sparrow. She was on her back, spasming, wings flapping uncontrollably – likely a window or car strike. Within a few moments, all movement ceased, and her avian companions flew off.

I picked up and cupped the motionless sparrow in my palms, hoping to detect or encourage any signs of life. There were none, only a limp, flatlined body. I placed her at the base of a nearby tree, stroked her head, and let the moment sink. My first reaction was one of sorrow. Another victim of endless terraforming. But looking around at her companions, who resumed flying, playing, chirping, courting, soaring freely through the air, my feelings brightened. This sweet bird may have died, but she also lived, and, if her companions are any indication, lived to her fullest.

Isn’t that what life should be about? Letting go, and taking the risk of living freely? Soaring to heights of our full potential, rather than mucking along, ensnared on habit, insecurity, conformation, and our endless obsession of being productive (and hence worthy according to some standard du jour)? Life is short, may be a cliche, but it is rooted in our intuition – something we should act on rather than talk about. Instead, we often act as if our lives are permanent: delaying, procrastinating, sticking to the familiar, etc. What the death of this beautiful sparrow reminded me is that our time is finite, and infinitely more precious than anything else we give value to in life. We need to respect it, and use it to broaden our reality, our scope of life, our taste of the unknown. The more we know, the more we are.

Death often strikes suddenly, and with little to no time to prepare. Sometimes, I think of my hypothetical posthumous self reflecting back on life. Was it lived well, freely, and fully? What did I want to do, but didn’t make the time to do it? I find asking these questions, even without providing any answers, adds drive and curiosity to life.