“Scientists warn that constant fear and anger are bad for our health, while being compassionate and warm-hearted contributes to our physical and mental well-being. Therefore, just as we observe physical hygiene to stay well, we need to cultivate a kind of emotional hygiene too.” ~ Dalai Lama
I understand that, by 11 last night, South Lexington, where I live, had accumulated nearly two inches of rain with the heaviest to come. I drove through pouring rain all the way home from West Liberty. Wally and I immediately checked on Edgar. We found him soaked to the bone, slow, and shaking. I considered wrapping him in a towel and bringing him inside, but I figured Edgar’s plight was not uncommon in the wild. Sure, that much rain at once is a lot, but it’s not necessarily uncommon. Who am I to know better than Mother Nature? But I did want to help knowing that more rain was on the way. I found the top of a cat litter box with a doorway. I put it on his stick mound, then placed him inside. I was feeling very guilty for not doing it sooner because he was distressed. In fact, I can’t say that I’ve ever seen a bird that wet that was also alive. The forecast I’d heard before leaving for West Liberty did not call for a deluge, only scattered showers, and Edgar was in the yard practicing. I couldn’t interfere with that, and he would have just come out of the shelter anyway. But perhaps I was wrong to not bring him inside because he did not survive the night. Wally and I found him this morning right where I left him; still soaked to the bone. I was, I am, heartbroken. I buried him beside my sweet cat, Jack, under the pine tree where I first saw him, placing a stone riddled with coral fossils that look like crows feet as a monument atop his grave. I trust he’s now warm and flying. Godspeed, Edgar, and thank you for your magic.