A Window to World, A Haibun #amwriting


©Sascha Darlington

7/25. I hope you don’t mind the reshare as I was originally late for the “window” dVerse prompt. I’ve edited it down a couple of paragraphs, but it’s a paragraph and a line still too long. I won’t be offended if  you choose not to read for that reason alone.  Thanks. SD

7/20. I am three hours too late (my theme this week) to participate in the dVerse collection, but the haibun is written. So here it is.

A Window to World, A Haibun

Hummingbird appliques cling to window panes on the French door to discourage deadly flights. I saved a junco whose wing was damaged, grieved over the broken body of the lady cardinal, and petted the catbird twice until he flew away to live and prayed he lived.

Today a neighbor sprayed pesticide on their yard; for mosquitoes, the truck said, because pesticide differentiates between insects. Three houses away the fumes reached Scout and me as we moved through liquid heat. He pulled me toward home, his nose far more perceptive to injuries being done.

At the beach a talkative young man with a cylinder on his back sprayed for insects. “Renters hate spiders.” Too late I asked him not to spray near the pilings where a starling created her nest. I flung multigrain bread to the hardworking mother. Her flights frequent, even in cool windy rain, such a good mother. And then there was just one flight, days later, toward late afternoon with the sun sloping downward, and a single squawk registering anguish in the part of my brain where heartbreak is understood. No further chirping rose from her nest.

I look out my windows at a world I cannot protect, feel my heart chipped by what I cannot control.

On the deck railing

Mother finch teaches seed craft.

Summer breezes dance.

19 thoughts on “A Window to World, A Haibun #amwriting

  1. Is that your window? (Lucky you, if it is.) My window is similar, but less leafy. I have a barn that, during spring and summer, is melodic with nesting birds, mostly finches, but a few flycatchers as well. Infant mortality rate is about 50%. I never get used to it. 🙁

    1. Yes, it’s my window. I had become a backyard (and other places but not obsessive) birder. They are wonderful to watch and observe how they interact. Much like the squirrels who use my deck to lounge on during the summer. No, 50% mortality is not cool, but I have found that most people just don’t care. Not when they let their cats roam free through other people’s yards and blow their pesticides…….ooops….this is a rant coming on. Next…..
      Thanks for reading! 🙂

  2. Sasha, we definitely share a love for birds. Too often, I have had experiences such as yours and it leaves me down for the rest of the day. I’ve posted enough poems about this to put into a book. Hmmm.

    1. Thank you, Victoria. I was crying on the last few days of vacation every time I would be alone and thinking about the baby birds. I am glad to know there are others like me. 🙂
      Thank you so much for reading and sharing!

  3. I am sorry to hear about the problems you have had with birds from windows to pesticides. I understand that dogs sense is mainly smell, but that may not be all dogs.

  4. This world is too full of careless people. I can’t tell you how much heartbroken I was when our neighbor cleared their thickets before selling out the land. I can still hear the puzzled loud chirping of the birds. Heaven knows how many nests were gone in the process.
    The beautiful and heartfelt haibun made me so sad. Sigh.

    1. Sumana, I watch people knock down their trees and destroy hedges with disregard. I hear you so well. Thank you so much for commenting. You don’t know how much I feel to know that I am not alone.

  5. Lovely and heartbreaking haibun. I have so many feeders out and that includes those for squirrels and hummingbirds. Luckily I live on a corner lot and the neighbor beside does not believe in using any poisons. She has several bat boxes as well which helps control the skeeters. It makes me sad when the wild things die but today I saw two miracles – a young hummingbird no bigger than the first digit of my little finger feeding from one of the feeders and the clutch of bluebirds teaching their two hatchlings to fly. Keep the miracles my friend. They help with the bad times.

  6. ah, heartbreaking.
    There was a time when the city sprayed insecticide all over because of Triple E mosquitoes. During those years, we did not have any mosquito bite. Neither did we enjoy fireflies zipping by or dragonflies whirring about.

    1. Thanks, Imelda. I think it’s a fine line we humans have between trying to control everything and then over-controlling and find things spinning out of control. With the bee situation the way it is, I’m not sure pesticides can be an answer.

      1. Poor bees. Poor humans, too, when we run out of bees. those with know-how can find a way to reverse the disappearance of bees soon.

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