In writing about my experiences with sunbirds, I considered starting with the most recent encounter first, a little like the Lord of the Rings films. As far as I can tell it started somewhere in the middle of the very long tale and then moved hither and thither, with the film of the prelude, The Hobbit, only very recently being made and released.
But I'm glad I didn't. In reliving the experiences in the sequence that it had happened, I am reminded of the subtlety with which I was led deeper and deeper into the analogy. It became rich with symbolism and has a luminality that cannot be explained rationally, and yet can also not be reasoned away. In sharing it in this way, I am convinced anew that we are not alone on this journey in life. We are safe and we are loved even more than we can ever fathom.
To get the full story up till now, please see posts:
Lessons in Sunbirdish (1)
Lessons in Sunbirdish (2)
Lessons in Sunbirdish (3) (I am told it is not boring reading)
When we discovered Wakkerstroom end of 2012, (please see posts A Rare Find and From Roots to Shoots) things started falling into place for us concerning our dream to work towards a life lived consciously and sharing this with others through our art and dedicated practices such as retreats and creative workshops.
However, a lot of practicalities still have to be sorted out and many obstacles lie between us and our dream. We are tackling them but many worries dominate our conversations nowadays. The purpose of our most recent visit to Wakkerstroom was to scout for workshops, a place to live, acquaint George's father with the retirement village and get a better idea of the surrounding area and neighbouring towns.
As always my radar was constantly searching for the sunbird's tell-tale beak and the peculiar way of flying and I mentioned to George on our previous visit that there doesn't seem to be any in the area. The local bakery made my day with their name printed boldly on the shop front. It read: SUNBIRD BAKERY.
Wakkerstroom being a birding destination of choice for all serious birders, I felt more than blessed with the pair of magnificent mahem that came to roost in a tree close by every evening. I reasoned that the surrounding wetlands and savannah would probably not be natural habitat for sunbirds as I saw very little of the typical plants that would provide the nectar they feed on.
Imagine my delight when I spotted a male malachite sunbird in all its green iridescence in a garden in town on the second day of our three day stay! This was my first ever sighting of this particular type of sunbird and I was completely satisfied that my little guardians were indeed common residents in Wakkerstroom.
On the day of our departure, the 20th of February, we were up early and enjoying a cup of coffee and the glorious view from the stoep. The lush grassland starts a mere few metres from the cottage and dew was sparkling on the tall grass blades with a multitude of spiders' web glistening in the early morning sun.
I noticed a small black bird hovering above the grass. It seemed rather excited and made a lot of familiar noise, but didn't descend to the ground and flew off after a short while. It was soon back from its perch in the huge oak tree next to the cottage, repeating the same frantic dance above the tall grass.
It was a black sunbird. Also a first sighting for me, but unmistakably a sunbird in flight and sound and profile.
Soon the female joined in and they kept flying to and fro while we hurriedly scanned the bird book to determine whether they could possibly be nesting in the grass. I thought this to be highly improbable as they are tree birds and would have difficulty perching. Maybe they were collecting spider's web for nest building? But then, they never descended low enough to do so. What I found very encouraging is the fact that in the case of the black sunbird, the male is actively involved in child rearing! "Bless his little soul", I thought to myself.
Then the thought dawned on us that there might be a chick in trouble.
We found it within metres, exactly where the parents have been dancing. George fetched the camera as I immediately realised that this was another "lesson" and I wanted it to be recorded as fully as possible.
The tiny fledgling was sitting completely stranded in the grass, all wet and bedraggled with dew and obviously very miserable. It was a little scared and flitty as I carefully picked it up and cradled it in my hands. Both our hearts were pounding! I felt quite breathless as well. My mind was racing! How on earth could this be?
The warmth of my hands soon calmed it down and it proceeded to perch on my forefinger. We needed to get it dry in order to see if it could fly and I stood in the warm sunlight with it perching quite contentedly on my finger. All the while George was taking pictures. For the third time in my life, a sunbird sat perched on my finger, quite voluntarily and without any obvious fear.
After about fifteen minutes of basking in the sun and each other's attention, I handed the youngster over to George. I felt it to be important that he share in this to the full extent. To feel those little claws around your finger and the trusting way it looks at you from only a couple of inches away, is something I wanted him to experience for himself.
All the while the parents were calling and flying about frantically in the higher regions of the oak tree. They didn't seem at all convinced that we meant it well with their precious offspring! Junior however, was basking very comfortably on George's finger as he gently stroked it. It seemed aware of them though, and occasionally made an almost supersonic sound while flicking it's little tongue.
But I'm glad I didn't. In reliving the experiences in the sequence that it had happened, I am reminded of the subtlety with which I was led deeper and deeper into the analogy. It became rich with symbolism and has a luminality that cannot be explained rationally, and yet can also not be reasoned away. In sharing it in this way, I am convinced anew that we are not alone on this journey in life. We are safe and we are loved even more than we can ever fathom.
To get the full story up till now, please see posts:
Lessons in Sunbirdish (1)
Lessons in Sunbirdish (2)
Lessons in Sunbirdish (3) (I am told it is not boring reading)
When we discovered Wakkerstroom end of 2012, (please see posts A Rare Find and From Roots to Shoots) things started falling into place for us concerning our dream to work towards a life lived consciously and sharing this with others through our art and dedicated practices such as retreats and creative workshops.
However, a lot of practicalities still have to be sorted out and many obstacles lie between us and our dream. We are tackling them but many worries dominate our conversations nowadays. The purpose of our most recent visit to Wakkerstroom was to scout for workshops, a place to live, acquaint George's father with the retirement village and get a better idea of the surrounding area and neighbouring towns.
As always my radar was constantly searching for the sunbird's tell-tale beak and the peculiar way of flying and I mentioned to George on our previous visit that there doesn't seem to be any in the area. The local bakery made my day with their name printed boldly on the shop front. It read: SUNBIRD BAKERY.
Wakkerstroom being a birding destination of choice for all serious birders, I felt more than blessed with the pair of magnificent mahem that came to roost in a tree close by every evening. I reasoned that the surrounding wetlands and savannah would probably not be natural habitat for sunbirds as I saw very little of the typical plants that would provide the nectar they feed on.
Imagine my delight when I spotted a male malachite sunbird in all its green iridescence in a garden in town on the second day of our three day stay! This was my first ever sighting of this particular type of sunbird and I was completely satisfied that my little guardians were indeed common residents in Wakkerstroom.
I noticed a small black bird hovering above the grass. It seemed rather excited and made a lot of familiar noise, but didn't descend to the ground and flew off after a short while. It was soon back from its perch in the huge oak tree next to the cottage, repeating the same frantic dance above the tall grass.
It was a black sunbird. Also a first sighting for me, but unmistakably a sunbird in flight and sound and profile.
Soon the female joined in and they kept flying to and fro while we hurriedly scanned the bird book to determine whether they could possibly be nesting in the grass. I thought this to be highly improbable as they are tree birds and would have difficulty perching. Maybe they were collecting spider's web for nest building? But then, they never descended low enough to do so. What I found very encouraging is the fact that in the case of the black sunbird, the male is actively involved in child rearing! "Bless his little soul", I thought to myself.
Then the thought dawned on us that there might be a chick in trouble.
The tiny fledgling was sitting completely stranded in the grass, all wet and bedraggled with dew and obviously very miserable. It was a little scared and flitty as I carefully picked it up and cradled it in my hands. Both our hearts were pounding! I felt quite breathless as well. My mind was racing! How on earth could this be?
The warmth of my hands soon calmed it down and it proceeded to perch on my forefinger. We needed to get it dry in order to see if it could fly and I stood in the warm sunlight with it perching quite contentedly on my finger. All the while George was taking pictures. For the third time in my life, a sunbird sat perched on my finger, quite voluntarily and without any obvious fear.
After about fifteen minutes of basking in the sun and each other's attention, I handed the youngster over to George. I felt it to be important that he share in this to the full extent. To feel those little claws around your finger and the trusting way it looks at you from only a couple of inches away, is something I wanted him to experience for himself.
All the while the parents were calling and flying about frantically in the higher regions of the oak tree. They didn't seem at all convinced that we meant it well with their precious offspring! Junior however, was basking very comfortably on George's finger as he gently stroked it. It seemed aware of them though, and occasionally made an almost supersonic sound while flicking it's little tongue.
Another fifteen minutes went by. The little sunbird was fully fledged and seemed to be able to fly. It must have been a bit too ambitious in its attempt though and landed in the tall grass when it's little wings couldn't carry him further.
When it started perking up and seemed dry enough, we gently placed it on a twig on the lower branches of the oak tree. We then watched as the parents coaxed it up higher into the tree by hopping and flying in a rather haphazard way from branch to branch. It was soon out of sight, blending in perfectly with the colours of the foliage.
What to make of this! My previous similar encounters had been solely with female sunbirds and specifically entailed me helping them out of the entrapment they found themselves in.
In this instance, a couple of factors seem significant to us:
-The fact that it was again an encounter with sunbirds;
- it was the offspring of a pair that was in need of help and was saved;
-George and I shared this encounter.
We felt that it was yet again a message of hope and the promise of deliverance, but that it specifically indicated the fruit of our soulmateship: our work and the shared dream of The Restory.
It laid to rest yet again the doubts about being able to "make it" in Wakkerstroom. With what we by now know about Sunbirdish, it means we can look forward to be abundantly and definitely cared for as we go about what comes naturally for us: hatching our many creative ideas and sending them out into the world, fully fledged.
We are seen. We are safe. All will be well.
Matilda
Amen.
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