Oh, Freya, you have so perfectly captured the very particular type of awe that comes from momentarily entering into a brief, unexpected relationship with a bird. It’s a special kind of wonder, and one far from easy to put into words—but you’ve managed it. I can’t wait to read Anne Carson’s book. Such potent observations on love, longing, lack and the complexity of reunion. I’m so glad the warbler had your loving hand to recover in.
o! thank you! Also I watched the first episode of century of self and I'm stunned but not shocked at how fascinating and chilling it is. Watching episode two tonight--so glad you mentioned it! Wow.
I'm so glad you liked it! Inspired by our conversation, I finally finished episode 1 and even watched all of episode 2. Aside from being utterly intrigued and horrified, I'm very excited to finally cross "Watch 'Century of the Self'" off of my list (although now I'll probably write "re-watch 'Century of the Self'") 🙃
I almost didn't finish this piece because I was so afraid the warbler wasn't going to make it, but I'm so glad I did! Such a moving account of a moment of trans-species communication, understanding, and kindness.
“slight weight it barely registered, like trying to hold a breeze. Eventually, I wasn’t able to distinguish the feel of her body from my own skin. It felt like I was as much a part of the bird as she was of my palm for that still, protracted moment. “
Thanks for the essay. Details of historical and other writings not so of interest for taking a quick read on a morning when I have just a little time to rest and read. But no matter. All part of the wonders of substack and access to such wonderful writers and their work.
thanks for reading--and I hear you--it's hard to find time and space to read, even the things we want to, let alone didn't anticipate coming across in a busy day! Thanks for giving attention to it in the whirl of a world that makes little time for rest. 💜
“I can logic away why such things occur, and how there is nothing out-of-the-ordinary about it.
But in truth, I’d rather not.”
Oh goodness, I was gripped with knowing and understanding this whole story through. I think that quote sums up my entire approach to the world. I’m intrigued by why some of us are held spellbound by the unexplainable magic of these moments while others are so quick to logic them away (a fundamental difference between my partner and myself that I’ve frequently wondered about). Whatever the case, what a beautiful experience.
Thank you so much for reading--and I feel that way so much as well--how quickly the majority of the world we live in wants to logic through everything in a way to control and dismiss the mystery and wonder that is staring us in the face at times. I wish there was a way to think/care for/write about/share those experiences and hold space for mystery, rather than a quick return to every day, or worse an outright dismissal. Some days it is everything--the moments that hold us spellbound--and they should be honored. 💜
Freya this is all so touching really! I once tried to save a wild starling chick who probably fell off of her nest due to a particularly bad monsoon storm. My dad brought her home on a stormy evening. He said her nest was on top of the electricity pole, it confused and angered me beyond belief that the poor birds had to build its nest at such unsafe and vulnerable spot because we humans have destroyed their natural habitat to build our parasitic colonies. We made her a resting place out of a small plastic basket, I personally lined it with cotton and straw to keep her warm. But alas, we hardly possessed the skills of the mama bird to be able to nourish and nestle the chick back to health, she died the next morning. I remember the awe I experienced when I first felt her tiny feathered pulsing heart, I remember the grief that engulfed me on losing her the next day. I spent the whole morning sitting next to the basket soaked in tears, wondering of the blue skies and the thick canopies to which she belonged. I was only 10 and didn’t understand much about death but that incident definitely made me question a lot about what I knew to be true about my reality.
Suffice to say that your story brought back the same experience of wonder, awe, anger, and despair. I am happy that your yellow warbler had a happy ending though! Thank you for sharing this experience, it struck a very special chord within me. Every time I read something that you have written, a mystical sense of knowing, a kinship, overpowers me, maybe we are not so different, separated by geographies and race, as the world would have us believe. Thank you for caring and giving space for such a beautiful creature to heal. Reminds me of Emily Dickinson’s “If I can stop one heart from breaking”
Swarnali--how beautiful, and poignant, and I can imagine having a similar feeling and reaction to yours with your dear starling. How much it hurts that even our care can't mend some creatures, and yet still grateful for the chance to try. I loved reading that story--and the poem--thank you for that--I wasn't familiar with that Dickinson poem, and yet of course--and now my life has not been lived in vain. :) She is such a wise prophet. Truly, acts of love that appear unexpectedly are probably the most meaningful experiences in life. So happy to know that we are both out there, swooning over birds, and feeling kinship far away. 💜
I prefer to call it Agape 💜 because it is all encompassing love while sensibly detaching to keep the love from becoming suffocating. Maybe it’s a mixture of both eros and agape that we felt for our little birdies. Maybe love is difficult to define or explain using language as a means. But in any case this story did feel like a disney princess moment but hopefully still without the avian flu hehe. 😷
"Moments that melt the boundaries between subject and object, divine and human, self and other is often how mystical union or transcendence was described by medieval writers. Such occurrences are also described as an interjection of the extraordinary into the ordinary."
"There are so many ways to be surprised by gradations of eros, of a sudden love you could never anticipate. Because I did really feel love for that bird. I was struck by the feel of her feet—so, so slight, the smallest of talons on my skin. Such a slight weight it barely registered, like trying to hold a breeze. Eventually, I wasn’t able to distinguish the feel of her body from my own skin. It felt like I was as much a part of the bird as she was of my palm for that still, protracted moment."
Freya, you are correct, describing a personal transcendent experience is difficult and hard to write. Yet you succeed in writing such an astonishingly beautiful essay about transcendence. Truly remarkable work, Thank you.
I was watching a yellow warbler high up in a tree a couple months ago, and was struck by how well they blend in. It reminded me that humans have a pretty limited visual field when it comes to colors. As yellow as they seem, they match right in with the green of the trees; or perhaps as green as the trees seem, yellowness we can't perceive hides the warbler, releasing only their song.
I'm ashamed to say that despite being taken by all the beauties in this piece, it's an enticing distraction to think of a Disney movie where the hero/ine(s) get avian flu. Perhaps it could say something about the need for mutual aid instead of solitary heroes.
ha--the whole disney princess avian flu thing killed me. 😂
And the visual field--yes, I was amazed at how green the warbler truly was, how blended and indistinct the gradations of color on her back were. It's like they are part of the leaves.
Oh, Freya, you have so perfectly captured the very particular type of awe that comes from momentarily entering into a brief, unexpected relationship with a bird. It’s a special kind of wonder, and one far from easy to put into words—but you’ve managed it. I can’t wait to read Anne Carson’s book. Such potent observations on love, longing, lack and the complexity of reunion. I’m so glad the warbler had your loving hand to recover in.
I knew you would understand all of that dear Chloe. Thanks so much for reading, and for all that you write and share with us. 🪶
This a beautiful piece. Your descriptions and your contemplations are wonderful.
And the experience with the warbler is really touching.
ah, thank you so much. 💜
Wonderful.
Fortunate for us the warbler hit your window.
And then, the love/warmth of your hand/kindness enabled it to survive.
If this is mad, the world needs a lot more madness.
thank you so much--yes to madness that brings care and wonder. 💜
Absolutely gorgeous. I’m so grateful that you tried a sixth time, and that I have been brought to your writing.
o! thank you! Also I watched the first episode of century of self and I'm stunned but not shocked at how fascinating and chilling it is. Watching episode two tonight--so glad you mentioned it! Wow.
I'm so glad you liked it! Inspired by our conversation, I finally finished episode 1 and even watched all of episode 2. Aside from being utterly intrigued and horrified, I'm very excited to finally cross "Watch 'Century of the Self'" off of my list (although now I'll probably write "re-watch 'Century of the Self'") 🙃
it’s seriously blowing my mind in the specificity if it! oof! 🤬
If I may be so bold, I also think that if you don't know the writings of Paul Kingsnorth, you might really be interested.
i love recommendations for reading! I’m going to go look into his work now, thank you!!
Wonderful! Here's the link to his outline of the thesis and the many essays that have emerged from it, in order. I think most of them are not paywalled, but some are. I just think it's really beautiful writing and really important thinking. :) https://paulkingsnorth.substack.com/p/the-story-so-far?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email
I know! It’s hard to believe that the world is the result of this much premeditated calculation. Oof is right.
I almost didn't finish this piece because I was so afraid the warbler wasn't going to make it, but I'm so glad I did! Such a moving account of a moment of trans-species communication, understanding, and kindness.
💜🙏
I really like this part:
“slight weight it barely registered, like trying to hold a breeze. Eventually, I wasn’t able to distinguish the feel of her body from my own skin. It felt like I was as much a part of the bird as she was of my palm for that still, protracted moment. “
Thanks for the essay. Details of historical and other writings not so of interest for taking a quick read on a morning when I have just a little time to rest and read. But no matter. All part of the wonders of substack and access to such wonderful writers and their work.
thanks for reading--and I hear you--it's hard to find time and space to read, even the things we want to, let alone didn't anticipate coming across in a busy day! Thanks for giving attention to it in the whirl of a world that makes little time for rest. 💜
“I can logic away why such things occur, and how there is nothing out-of-the-ordinary about it.
But in truth, I’d rather not.”
Oh goodness, I was gripped with knowing and understanding this whole story through. I think that quote sums up my entire approach to the world. I’m intrigued by why some of us are held spellbound by the unexplainable magic of these moments while others are so quick to logic them away (a fundamental difference between my partner and myself that I’ve frequently wondered about). Whatever the case, what a beautiful experience.
Thank you so much for reading--and I feel that way so much as well--how quickly the majority of the world we live in wants to logic through everything in a way to control and dismiss the mystery and wonder that is staring us in the face at times. I wish there was a way to think/care for/write about/share those experiences and hold space for mystery, rather than a quick return to every day, or worse an outright dismissal. Some days it is everything--the moments that hold us spellbound--and they should be honored. 💜
Freya this is all so touching really! I once tried to save a wild starling chick who probably fell off of her nest due to a particularly bad monsoon storm. My dad brought her home on a stormy evening. He said her nest was on top of the electricity pole, it confused and angered me beyond belief that the poor birds had to build its nest at such unsafe and vulnerable spot because we humans have destroyed their natural habitat to build our parasitic colonies. We made her a resting place out of a small plastic basket, I personally lined it with cotton and straw to keep her warm. But alas, we hardly possessed the skills of the mama bird to be able to nourish and nestle the chick back to health, she died the next morning. I remember the awe I experienced when I first felt her tiny feathered pulsing heart, I remember the grief that engulfed me on losing her the next day. I spent the whole morning sitting next to the basket soaked in tears, wondering of the blue skies and the thick canopies to which she belonged. I was only 10 and didn’t understand much about death but that incident definitely made me question a lot about what I knew to be true about my reality.
Suffice to say that your story brought back the same experience of wonder, awe, anger, and despair. I am happy that your yellow warbler had a happy ending though! Thank you for sharing this experience, it struck a very special chord within me. Every time I read something that you have written, a mystical sense of knowing, a kinship, overpowers me, maybe we are not so different, separated by geographies and race, as the world would have us believe. Thank you for caring and giving space for such a beautiful creature to heal. Reminds me of Emily Dickinson’s “If I can stop one heart from breaking”
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
Swarnali--how beautiful, and poignant, and I can imagine having a similar feeling and reaction to yours with your dear starling. How much it hurts that even our care can't mend some creatures, and yet still grateful for the chance to try. I loved reading that story--and the poem--thank you for that--I wasn't familiar with that Dickinson poem, and yet of course--and now my life has not been lived in vain. :) She is such a wise prophet. Truly, acts of love that appear unexpectedly are probably the most meaningful experiences in life. So happy to know that we are both out there, swooning over birds, and feeling kinship far away. 💜
I love that--it’s agape and eros. And the language is somewhere in between. 💜
I prefer to call it Agape 💜 because it is all encompassing love while sensibly detaching to keep the love from becoming suffocating. Maybe it’s a mixture of both eros and agape that we felt for our little birdies. Maybe love is difficult to define or explain using language as a means. But in any case this story did feel like a disney princess moment but hopefully still without the avian flu hehe. 😷
"Moments that melt the boundaries between subject and object, divine and human, self and other is often how mystical union or transcendence was described by medieval writers. Such occurrences are also described as an interjection of the extraordinary into the ordinary."
"There are so many ways to be surprised by gradations of eros, of a sudden love you could never anticipate. Because I did really feel love for that bird. I was struck by the feel of her feet—so, so slight, the smallest of talons on my skin. Such a slight weight it barely registered, like trying to hold a breeze. Eventually, I wasn’t able to distinguish the feel of her body from my own skin. It felt like I was as much a part of the bird as she was of my palm for that still, protracted moment."
Freya, you are correct, describing a personal transcendent experience is difficult and hard to write. Yet you succeed in writing such an astonishingly beautiful essay about transcendence. Truly remarkable work, Thank you.
Ah, thank you Patrick. 💜 Still trying to work out the poem... ;)
You'll crush it!
I was watching a yellow warbler high up in a tree a couple months ago, and was struck by how well they blend in. It reminded me that humans have a pretty limited visual field when it comes to colors. As yellow as they seem, they match right in with the green of the trees; or perhaps as green as the trees seem, yellowness we can't perceive hides the warbler, releasing only their song.
I'm ashamed to say that despite being taken by all the beauties in this piece, it's an enticing distraction to think of a Disney movie where the hero/ine(s) get avian flu. Perhaps it could say something about the need for mutual aid instead of solitary heroes.
ha--the whole disney princess avian flu thing killed me. 😂
And the visual field--yes, I was amazed at how green the warbler truly was, how blended and indistinct the gradations of color on her back were. It's like they are part of the leaves.
Such a gift of an experience. So glad you had it!
Tell me if someone in your family ends up writing that screenplay!
ha--I will! :)