Hurricane Irma Stories: The Little Bird

The little bird

I don't remember where I found her, I don't remember the day I found her. But I remember her. I found a little bird.

I remember seeing the little bird out in the open not moving. There was no shelter because almost every bit of landscaping down to the last blade of grass was gone. For the very few trees left, they had been completely defoliated. There simply was no relief anywhere, the heat was relentless both outside and inside any structures crumbled or not. The little bird's eyes were open, that I could see, yet when I went to her she did not move nor make attempt to retreat in any way. I recognized her look.... it was one of defeat.

I looked through debris and collateral damage for some type of box to put her in. I lined whatever it was I found with something for her, but no idea what. Ever so gently I picked up the little bird, what could she have weighed 2 ounces maybe? So light I barely knew she was in my hands. I placed her in the box, but she was barely standing. At that point in time, we at least had leaned a ladder against the bed and breakfast to get to the upstairs since the staircases had all vanished too. I climbed up the ladder while the other happy vegan held the box with the little bird. He handed her off to me. I brought her inside picking my way over broken drywall pieces, shattered glass, filth everywhere and destroyed possessions that used to mean something to me but were nothing now. I placed her on the now ruined breakfast table where for years guests ate. I didn't know what to do, so I walked to Dr. Doug's. He was kind, but not hopeful. She maybe had come into contact with some poison that was around from all the things in the surge, or possibly she was exhausted. Surviving a hurricane is hard, especially when you're a little bird. He said see if I could hydrate her, keep her quiet and leave her be to see if she would improve. It's important to note that Dr. Doug and family were no different than us in sustaining so much loss, but there he was tending to concerns of others for so much animal suffering at that point in time.

The little bird became another potential loss I wasn't ready for. I remember her sitting completely still in the little lined box while I sat vigil nearby. I picked up a bottlecap I had found on the ground and  used it as a water dish for her. I knew she was going for the water because I had to replace it at times, plus after a while it was evident she was at least still peeing.

It still wasn't enough though, I knew she wouldn't make it if someone more knowledgeable didn't come to her aid. Big Pine Wildlife Rescue was long gone before Irma, the Wild Bird Center in Marathon was way too far for me to get to plus who knew if they were still even there after Irma. Information was so scarce about what was going on through the rest of the Keys. I also couldn't get down to Key West for their bird rescue either, I didn't have the transportation means, and of course had no clue what was going on down there either. Somehow, some way I was lead to a woman right here on Big Pine that does wildlife rescue. I've seen their big truck around the island, I know her through the Refuge, and if memory serves I think she was the one who many years ago responded to a desperate call I made looking for someone to help me with a possum that had been killed on my street; I was worried she may have had babies in her pouch (sure enough yes she did). I think also she was the one who helped us when we had baby rats stuck in the old freight elevator.

It's so vague but I know I got to the parking lot at the Winn Dixie shopping plaza here on Big Pine. She had agreed to take the little bird down to the Key West Wild Bird Center for me. There's an even more fuzzy recollection I have after she quickly assessed the little bird that she thought she could be saved.

I really don't know. So many memories from Irma are like this for me... dream like, or more accurate to say stupor like. I meant to keep a journal, nothing major, just key words that would trigger my memory in the future. I had the paper, I had the pen, but it wasn't in me to write even even a lone word. Survival takes a lot of energy in times like that, inescapable stress wreaks havoc on body, mind and spirit.

Eventually at some point later in time I was able to get to the Key West Wild Bird Center. I don't know why I was in Key West or how I got to the bird center, but odds are we were in town for something  FEMA related (FEMA...that's a story at this point which remains so painful I will not even consider telling it, yet). The bird center had taken in many casualties after the storm as I understand things. As kind as the woman I spoke to was, she had no information to offer on the little bird and told me basically none could be forthcoming. I understood, they had admitted so many casualties, but I was still sad not to know.

In time all I could do was decide that the little bird was nursed back to good health and released. My version is she was in shock from the storm, suffering from exhaustion just like the rest of us. Such a broken soul needs time, kindness, mercy and very gentle hearts around her. She was kin that way to me.

The little bird sings her songs, flies from tree to tree, is healthy, happy and has no memory of those dark and scary times. My hope is she and I will be kin that way too someday.