I have had four wild bird experiences to date with the common motif of rescuing them or freeing them from enclosed spaces.
The very first wild bird experience occurred when I was renting a place in Vancouver in 2010. I was cleaning the kitchen and opened the door just a little, to let in some fresh air. The kitchen has one big window that overlooks the back yard and another smaller window above the sink.
As I opened the door, a startled bird sitting atop, flew into the kitchen and headed straight to the grilled window over the kitchen sink. It tried to fly out, however that window could not be opened. The bird kept crashing against the glass in its repeated attempts to exit. It pained me to see it crash as I helplessly watched, hoping and praying for it to stop.
Finally, when the little brown bird was fatigued, it lay sideways, still against the glass and I had a chance to pick it up and help free it. I was afraid to hold it but a message was infused in my consciousness which simply stated: " Do not be afraid to hold it."
With great reverence in my heart, I approached the bird and ever so gently picked it up. I moved slowly towards the ajar kitchen door but midway the bird took flight out of my hands and into the back yard where fresh, green, grass greeted it.
There, it rested for some time, pecking in the grass before flying away out of sight. As I looked out the window, I felt delighted and sent the little creature much love through my eyes and heart.
My second experience with a wild bird was when I took a road which had an obstruction ahead which I don't believe was a coincidence. I noticed a lady in an open parking lot to my left with a seagull. The seagull was trying to fly but it was clearly having trouble taking off. I gathered the bird's wings were injured in some way.
I parked my car to the side of the road and approached the lady. She was attempting to cover the bird with her jacket in order to pick it up and help it. I suggested perhaps we could call the Wild Animal Rescue Centre and immediately started searching for a number.
The Wild Animal Rescue Centre was located at quite a distance so it would take them a while to arrive. In the meantime, the lady was successful in covering the bird with her jacket. I gave the empathic stranger a ride to her home which happened to be just around the corner. After that, I left for my home.
A few hours passed as I sat at home and thought of the bird - of how much pain it might be in and the delayed time of rescue's arrival.
Finally, I decided to call the good samaritan offering to drop off the injured bird at the Wild Animal Rescue Centre. The lady had the bird in a box with holes. Though the drive to the rescue centre was long and winding, it was well worth it to finally release the poor, injured bird in the hands of individuals who could mend it.
The third experience I had with a wild bird was in my day job. I discovered a seagull going the wrong way in a parkade which would lead to a dead end. I called to the bird lovingly to come towards me, changing direction. To my amazement, the seagull did just that. It turned around and started following me, pausing intermittently in a few parking stalls, pecking then moving upwards and towards the exit led by me.
As the bird and I neared the gate to the outside world, I quickly opened it and the seagull promptly flew up and out to freedom.
My fourth and final experience with a wild bird was with a crow in the recycling room of my day job.
One morning when I entered the recycling area, I heard a bird gawking but could not locate it visually. I called to it to come but instead, the bird just continued with its sounds. When I opened the recycling gate, I saw a crow walking frantically back and forth atop the ledge of the gate. I left the door open, hoping that the bird would take the opportunity to fly out. After a while, I reluctantly shut the gate due to security purposes.
The next morning, I still heard gawking and several minutes later, the crow flew over a full paper recycling bin near which, I happened to be synchronistically standing. It didn't attempt to fly but was walking sloppily on mixed paper.
While contemplating of how I should proceed to help the crow, the compactor technician came and I requested his help to guide the bird outside. He did and I felt a huge relief for a liberated crow.
The next day I couldn't help but ponder that the recurring experience of rescuing or liberating birds were somehow a reflection of rescuing and liberating myself. Afterall, your reality is a mirror of yourself.