Earlier this month as I sat at the desk by the upstairs hall window, looking down on the blossoming apple trees and the vineyard beyond, I suddenly heard a fluttering sound behind me. A house finch had flown into the open window at the other end of the hall. I watched her fly around the hall and into my office where she began banging against the window, struggling to find a way out.
I entered my office and watched as she flew against the window unaware that the just 10 inches away, it was open. Slowly and peacefully I approached her with my open hands prayerfully offering guidance and help. At first she refused, fluttering with even more determination and desperation up and down the invisible obstacle that held her captive. I remained calm and present, ready to enfold her gently yet firmly when the opportunity appeared.
But suddenly, she stopped her frantic flapping and flew onto my finger, sitting there as naturally and calmly as if it was a tree branch. There was a communion in that moment, an understanding that passed between that finch and myself. I was reluctant to let go of that connection, and yet I knew that was part of our connection, part of the trust...
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