The Crash in the Night
Even though this story begins with a crash in the middle of the night, it’s not about a car accident or a home invasion. No, the real drama unfolds when a couple of heavy wooden shelves suddenly come tumbling down the hallway, sending family photos and framed memories crashing to the floor.
It’s 5:24 a.m. on an ordinary Tuesday, and my husband and I are jolted awake by a cacophony of cracks, bangs, and shattering glass. We bolt upright in the dark, hearts pounding, grasping for each other. “What the hell? What the shit?” we exclaim, our adrenaline surging as we fear the worst – a car crash, a break-in, something terrible.
As my husband cautiously approaches the window, I pull my bathrobe tightly around me, bracing myself for whatever mayhem awaits. But to our relief, the street outside is peaceful and quiet. “Worse yet, a break-in,” my husband mutters, sitting back down on the bed, both of us struggling to catch our breath and regain our composure.
When I finally click on the light, we see the aftermath: two heavy wooden shelves have been ripped from the hallway wall, sending a cascade of framed family photos tumbling down the stairs. Glass and splintered wood litter the floor, and amid the chaos, we spot a 60-year-old photo of my father in his black preacher’s suit, my mother perched uneasily in an armchair, all of us arranged and trying to smile.
As the article from Belt Magazine describes, even as atheists who have “shrugged off the comfy sweaters of the afterlife,” my husband and I can’t help but feel a sense of unease, as if something has been disturbed, something ghostly in the air. We retreat to our bed, clinging to each other, seeking the warmth and comfort of our familiar refuge.
A Woodland Oasis
But this story isn’t just about that rude awakening in the middle of the night. No, it’s also about the beautiful, serene woodland retreat that lies just outside our window – a haven of lush greenery, vibrant blooms, and abundant wildlife that has become our own personal sanctuary, a place to find solace and respite from the chaos and uncertainty that often permeates our lives.
You see, when we bought this house, we inherited a stunning backyard that was lovingly tended by the previous owner, a woman named Mary Helen. As the Fine Gardening article describes, Mary Helen had transformed this once-overgrown forest into a veritable oasis, sculpting the land with dramatic contours and pathways, and encouraging the growth of a verdant moss carpet that now covers the ground like a cozy, barefoot-friendly blanket.
As I look out the windows, I’m greeted by a symphony of colors and textures – the delicate pink and white blossoms of the scilla and daffodils that herald the arrival of spring, the towering pines and silver maple providing cooling shade, and the vibrant red trillium and mayflowers that push their way through the underbrush, seemingly without effort.
But this backyard is more than just a pretty picture; it’s a sanctuary, a place of refuge and healing in a world that often feels like it’s falling apart. In the wake of the Flint water crisis, where trust has been severely damaged and the future remains uncertain, this woodland retreat has become a green oasis, a place where we can escape the stresses of daily life and reconnect with the natural world.
Feeding the Feathered Visitors
One of the joys of our woodland retreat is the abundance of feathered visitors that grace us with their presence. As soon as we moved in, I put up feeders for finches, cardinals, and other local birds, eager to welcome these winged wonders into our little slice of nature.
And it wasn’t long before they started arriving, flitting and fluttering among the branches, their songs and calls filling the air with a soothing, harmonious rhythm. I find myself drawn to the windows, captivated by their graceful movements and vibrant plumage, losing myself in the simple pleasure of watching their daily dance.
But one morning, just a couple of days after the shelf incident, something truly extraordinary happened. As I made my way downstairs for my morning tea, I glanced out the kitchen window and spotted a brilliant blue bird, its feathers gleaming like a scrap of sky, calmly foraging on the ground.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Oh my god, we have a bluebird!” I shouted, my voice filled with a joy and amazement that seemed to course through my entire being. I rushed to grab my phone, clicking away frantically, desperate to capture this feathered marvel before it disappeared.
And for what felt like an eternity, the bird remained, pecking and preening, completely unperturbed by my giddy presence. I learned that this was not a bluebird at all, but an Indigo Bunting, a migratory species that had somehow found its way to our little backyard oasis.
The sight of that brilliant blue bird, a “scrap of sky with wings,” as the Cornell Lab of Ornithology so beautifully describes it, was a moment of pure, unfiltered joy – a respite from the angst and uncertainty that had been weighing heavily on us. In those fleeting minutes, as my husband and I stood at the window, smiling and marveling at the feathered visitor, the world seemed to pause, and all that mattered was the beauty of that moment.
A Healing Presence
As I’ve come to learn, the Indigo Bunting is a migratory species, traveling up to 1,200 miles each year between its wintering grounds and its breeding territories further north. And the fact that this one had found its way to our humble backyard, guided by the stars and an internal clock that seems almost miraculous, is a powerful reminder that there is still beauty and wonder in this world, even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty.
In a city like Flint, where the water crisis has shattered trust and eroded a sense of security, this woodland retreat has become a healing presence, a place where we can find solace and reconnect with the natural rhythms that sustain us. The vibrant blooms, the trilling birdsong, the gentle ebb and flow of the trickling stream – all of it serves as a balm for the soul, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of hope, a promise of new beginnings.
And as I reflect on the Indigo Bunting’s fleeting visit, I can’t help but feel a sense of awe and gratitude. This beautiful creature, guided by forces far beyond our control, has graced us with its presence, reminding us that there is still magic in the world, still moments of pure, unbridled joy to be found, even in the midst of our darkest struggles.
So as I stand at the window, watching the birds flit and flutter, I feel a deep sense of connection, a understanding that we are all part of something larger, something infinitely complex and yet profoundly simple. And in those moments, the trials and tribulations of the world fade away, replaced by a sense of wonder, a deep appreciation for the beauty that surrounds us, if only we have the eyes to see it.
Finding Solace in Nature
Of course, my best friend Teddy is right – I can’t make this into a classic fairy tale, a story of redemption and salvation. The water crisis in Flint is a complex, multifaceted issue, and the damage done to the community, both physical and psychological, will take years, if not decades, to fully repair.
And the shelves that came crashing down that night, sending our family photos tumbling to the floor, are a separate event, unrelated to the arrival of the Indigo Bunting. As Teddy reminds me, “Those shelves, that bird – those are two entirely separate things.”
But still, I can’t help but feel that there is a deeper connection, a recognition that in the midst of our darkest moments, nature has a way of offering us a glimmer of hope, a reminder that life persists, that beauty endures. And in the case of our woodland retreat, it’s as if this little corner of the world has been waiting patiently, offering us a sanctuary where we can find respite from the storms that rage outside.
Because when I stand at the window, watching the birds, listening to their soothing songs, I feel a sense of peace and tranquility that is truly profound. The worries and anxieties that so often consume me seem to melt away, replaced by a deep appreciation for the simple beauty of the natural world.
And in those moments, I am reminded that even in the face of great adversity, there is always a path forward, a way to find solace and healing. Whether it’s the resilience of the moss carpeting the ground, the vibrant blooms that push through the underbrush, or the Indigo Bunting’s journey guided by the stars, there is a lesson to be learned – that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of hope, a promise of new beginnings.
So as I continue to explore and nurture this woodland oasis, I know that it will be a source of strength and inspiration, not just for me and my husband, but for all who seek refuge within its verdant embrace. For in this little slice of nature, we can find the respite we need to weather the storms, and the courage to keep moving forward, one step at a time.