Bye, bye birdy...

Jock in the vege garden with George ...

On friday morning Daisy, Jock, George and Dawn headed up for a play under the big Peppercorn tree near the pigs (after a ramble through the vege garden). 

As everyone poked around looking at things, Jock wondered off towards the worm farm some 10 metres away or so.

I watched him being Jock, quietly curious, looking at the large boxes the worms are in, getting close and looking at marks on the boxes like he'd just made some marvellous discovery and was reading some ancient script.  Fascinated by bits of tan bark and stick, picking things up, putting them down... ...quietly exploring in his very gentle Jock way. 

At one point, he leant up against one of the boxes quiet and still and seemingly staring into the ground below. 

As I engaged with all of the children, Jock called to me, 'Nella, look I found something'.  I called back, 'In a mintue Jock, soon.' as I tended to helping Daisy and Dawn both fit comfortably into a hollow stump.

Next thing, Jock was standing next to me, took my hand and insisted, 'Nella, come, look.'  No time for, ' .. in a minute'.

I went over with Jock and he stood where he'd been, pointing to the ground, 'Look, look.'

I looked down expecting to see a caterpillar or worm or rock or some small treasure from mother nature and all I could see was tan bark.  I kept looking, seeing nothing, while Jock pointed and kept saying, 'There, there!' 

All the while insistent.

Eventually, I stood beside Jock and slid down to his level and saw that he wasn't pointing down, but towards the underneath of one of the worm boxes.

There in the tan bark lay a dead Mynah bird.

I looked at Jock's little face and into his dear little eyes bursting with all he was feeling and glad that I had come and could see what he was seeing.

 'It won't fly.'


We looked for a moment or two at it lying still and to my eyes, obvious that it had not been so, for very long.


'Yeah Jock, it won't fly.'

I realised that he'd been standing here looking at this little bird for some time, knowing that it wasn't moving and realising something was going on with it. He had been in deep observation and contemplation, not concerned or anxious though feeling it really mattered to let me know what he was seeing.

Soon all the children were gathered, looking at and all talking about the dead bird.

What to do?

Farmer Nick was our answer.  Nick is beautiful in his interactions with the children, warm, interested, friendly, happy to share a bit of info and the children over time have all seen how well he tends to things and how much work he does ... ... especially caring for the farms feathered friends.

Off we went and found Nick at the new shed, talking to one of the men working there.

'Nick, Nick, dead bird', the children called.  Nick came over to see what we wanted and we decided together that we could bury it. 

Nick suggested that we put it under a newly planted fruit tree as it would really help the fruit grow.

Off we went with a spade, lifted the bird onto it, walked down to the fruit tree and dug a hole.

The children were fascinated and fascinating.  All curious, interested and being themselves.  What happened to it?  How did it die?  Will it come back?  Make the hole bigger, don't squash it, that looks soft, where will it go.. .. ..?

As we chatted away, and the hole was dug, I noticed their concerns were mostly about the birds comfort and that we did this well.  'It's soft in there.'  'It needs to be bigger.'  'Don't squash it.'  'That's good, it can fit.'

I gently lay the bird in the hole and we all stood there looking at it. 'That's a good bed' said Dawn.. ..I think.  Jock surveyed things and burst out with, 'Need a roof, need a roof.' 

So we talked about the earth covering it and how that would be a good roof and keep the rain out and would even be warm and keep the bird safe now.

As we shovelled the dirt on and I patted the last bit in place.  The children all gathered round in a circle. 

A moments stillness was followed bye Jock saying, 'All finished' and a moment later Dawn adding in stillness, 'The birds gone now.' 

Simple, beautiful, whole and complete we'd taken care of the bird that couldn't fly and all was well at the farm.