Honouring Nuthatch

As I sat down in my chair facing the garden with the intention of re-branding my business and designing a new webpage.

My hands had barely touched the keys, when I heard a dull thud and saw a flash of colour. I got up and walked to the back door. A Nuthatch was fallen there, stuck between the metal bars of the stairs. I gently opened the door and bent down to pick him up. He barely moved, his mouth open, breathing heavily. I picked him up, so gently, closing his wings into the sides of his body and held him, cupped in my hands. I could feel the warmth of his body. The beating of his heart. The tiny vibrations of his energy field. He was in shock. I sat down on the doorstep, wrapped in my gown. The wind blew over us both and the sound of the birds singing filled the morning air.

The little being drifted in and out of consciousness as we sat. An urge to heal with my voice led me to humming gently and quietly as he lay in my hands. He opened and shut his eyes a few times. After a little while, and a little Reiki, he started to come around. I sat with him, humming occasionally. He was looking around now. Bigger birds, like Pidgeon, seemed to spook him as they went about their day, picking up fallen seeds from the base of the Cherry Plum Tree, to the left of the cottage garden door. He nestled gently into my hands, sheltered by the wind. After a little while, he began to sing. He looked around at me a few times, his eyes meeting mine. I wondered if he had been aware of me this whole time or not.

After about thirty minutes, I sensed he was ready to fly. I stood up as he cleaned his wing feathers and ruffled them in my hands. And then he was off. He landed on Cherry Plum Tree, singing. He greeted his family as they fed from the peanuts and seeds hanging there. The Nuthatch live here in the garden, in the large Yew in the centre of the lawn, flocked by three huge Pine Trees. I thought he must have been a fledgling from last years roost, helping his Mother and Father with this years youngling. I went back inside the cottage to wash his poo from my hands. I was full of love and gratitude, feeling so honoured that this little being had trusted me to hold him as he rested and healed, seemingly unbothered by my presence.

I had barely sat down, when I heard another loud thud, this time from the upstairs window looking into my sit spot. I jumped up and looked out the back door again. He was there, wings splayed, lying on the gravel path under the metal stairs. Mouth open, struggling to get back onto his front. His wings beat uselessly. I rushed down the stairs and bent down, picking him up so gently. I could feel a difference this time. I could feel his pain, his breathing jagged and uneven, masking his little heartbeat. I was upset, a wave of grief washing over me. I breathed Reiki into his tiny body. We sat back on the doorstep together, him cupped in my hands as before. His body jerked and his tail lifted. His mouth and eyes opening and shutting. He seemed to be looking at something in the distance. I hummed and asked the spirits of the land to show him where he needed to go. To help him on his journey and to transition in bliss and peace. Tears poured down my cheeks, down my neck. His tiny body shuddered again, his breathing rapid. Then he began to slow down. He looked ahead of him and for a split second I saw his eyes widen, and I felt an opening in my heart space. He could see where he needed to go. I felt his spirit leave him, and as it did, he nestled his little head into my hands, closing his eyes. I knew he had gone, but we sat for a little while longer. I looked down at him. ‘Perhaps he is asleep’ my mind wondered. His body became colder, limp, as we sat there, looking out onto the garden, the birdsong louder than ever.

Eventually I stood and looked around. A dip in the Earth by the Elderflower tree, close to his home in the Yew, called out to us. I walked barefoot down the steps, across the grass. I bent down, picking some Forget-me-nots from the unmown lawn. When I reached the dip, full of leaves, I moved some aside, scraping the Earth away, dirt covering my one hand, holding Nuthatch’s limp body in the other. I gently laid him down in his little grave, placing the little blue flowers on his tiny body. I covered him with some dirt and lots of leaves. I went inside to wash my hands, and grab some oats – some sustenance to help him on his journey, an offering for a safe, peaceful passage. I walked through the cottage, and out the front door, to a rose bush who’s vibrant pink petals had fallen to the ground. I picked up three, and walked back to the grave. I sprinkled my gifts there, breathing deeply. Giving thanks for this precious life.

Today I honour Nuthatch. I am deeply grateful for his trust, his wisdom. Everything he has shared and continues to share with me. He teaches me to see life from a new angle, a new perspective. Attuning me to my environment, to the lands around me. A messenger of the tree spirits, he is deeply connected to the nature spirits, the ancestral lands. A reminder to always be clear and honest in my expression, in Earth-connected communication with other humans, animals, and with Spirit. To have trust in life’s cycles, to honour the rhythms of the natural world, and to be a mindful steward of my own energy. To follow my own unique path, to call upon my inner strength, even if it’s a little ‘against the grain’. A knowing that what is meant to happen will, inevitably, happen. One way or another. What is meant for us will find us. Always. The only thing that stands in our way is us. Our mind. The human condition.

As I stood looking out at the garden, tears rolling down my face, not only in grief for this ending but in pure gratitude and love for this beautiful experience, I watched the family of Nuthatches go about their day. Flying and jumping from one branch to anther, feeding on peanuts, upside down. Feeding the youngling. How emotional we are as humans, I thought. We really hold onto things, we become so attached. We must let things go when the time is right. For everything, ultimately, is a transition into the light.

I honour and thank Nuthatch and his family this day. Their energy remains on these magical lands, in this magical garden. His body asked to be laid to rest in the garden, under the Elderflower tree, while his spirit asked to be blown into my workspace, where the energies of many other beings reside, and for which I have deep, deep gratitude. Some visitors help me with my work, in exchange for safe refuge and healing. Some stay for a while, and some move on quickly. Everyone is welcome here, until they receive their next calling.

Every journey begins with an ending.

Goodbye roamingreiki. Hello Barberry and Bloom.

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