It fell from the sky, apparently. And as it lay there on the ground, occasionally twitching slightly, I couldn't walk away. The swallow was stunned, and bleeding from one eye. I watched it for some time, waiting to evaluate its condition and mulling over what to do. Without warning, it took to the wing and flew in a low, wide arc across the street. As it neared the far side, having reached a foot or so above the ground, its arc was abruptly truncated with a dull thud, as it struck the rear of a parked car. It lay sprawled on the hot dusty tarmac. I crossed the street, deciding that I could not leave the bird in such an environment, envisioning it slowly dehydrating in a gutter, else making another panicked attempt at flight, resulting in another head-on collision with a car. I carefully wrapped my fingers around the bird, wary of causing any additional damage. Immediately, it panicked and darted from my hand, heading underneath the parked car. Subsequently emerging, and lying statically in the sun, I decided to try again. This time I closed my fingers around it more tightly, carefully but firmly clasping its wings to its body in the hope of restraining them such that they would not be damaged if it struggled. It let out a few repeated cries, and as I slowly softened my grip it calmed its behaviour. I could still feel its heavy breathing. I was startled by the forcefulness of the thumping of its heart against my fingers. I walked over the street and laid it in the middle of a large lawn under the shade of a large, distant tree. After time it took to the sky, slowly circling and climbing, until another swallow descended upon it. They proceeded to circle, occasionally coming together and tumbling about some imagined centre of mass. It then became apparent to me that the cause of the bird falling from the sky originally was probably the outcome of a territorial bout.
At some point during this episode, a friend said to me that you have to let nature take its course. It's a fair point, of course, but it revived a question that I've pondered before. That is, where does our responsibility of stewardship of the Earth, of humanely minimising the suffering of others, give way to interference?
That is always a fine line on any situation.
ReplyDeleteI think the questions posed would benefit from knowledge of the rest of the story.
ReplyDeleteWhen the swallow first fell, whatever the cause of the fall, he fell into the bed of a parked pickup truck. To argue that this "is nature's way" begins to seem like a stretch. If two birds acrobatically fight in midair and one is struck and falls to the ground, true, that is nature - but that bird would have landed in brush, or grass, or soft, peaty ground. It was never nature's intention that a great concrete jungle should arise, replacing trees with tandems, grass with asphalt and shrubs with cruel steel vehicles.
So my take is this: we are responsible so far as we were responsible. If the incident was brought about by interference, then intercession is necessary to right the situation. So far as the causes are unnatural, we cannot claim that the consequences are "nature's way."
Teddy: you are right - it's a fine, and pretty diffuse line.
ReplyDeleteKelly: that was my initial conclusion. However, on further thinking, the situation is not as clear cut. Considering, for example, the British countryside. There's hardly a square-mile that has not been shaped by human existence - from the Downland of the South, the Yorkshire Dales, the Fens and the Broads of East Anglia. The fact that this land is more 'natural' (that is organic, rather than concrete jungle) doesn't make it any less affected by humanity, and the fact that it is more organic wouldn't reduce my instinct to want to minimise suffering.
Did I see that bird on Facebook? If so, it looked like a swallow to me.
ReplyDeleteSteve, I thought that I was done with this subject, but no. I had a case in point that happened to me yesterday. While taking somethings out of my apartment, I found a bird that was confused. It let me come very close to it. I was not sure on what to do when it scrambed to some nearby bushes. I decided to do nothing and let nature takes it course on this. It is a very thin line.
ReplyDelete