December 5: in the fall of a sparrow

My husband saw a sparrow fall dead to the ground.

He was out walking the dog on a cold and rainy December morning and heard a thump behind him. A bird—”probably a sparrow or something“—fell in flight and crashed on the sidewalk. It’s little beak was still moving as he watched it, but it was dead.

He told me this in the car on the way to visit his sister today. He doesn’t put much faith in symbols or coincidences and seemed more concerned that the event of the sparrow distracted him enough that he thinks he forgot to pick up the dog’s “business.” Oops.

I, of course, read significance into everything. But rather than stir the pot, I voiced an appreciative yet nonchalant, “hmmm” at his experience with the sparrow and left it alone.

But a couple hours later, I heard him repeat the story to his sister with a little more specificity and a touch more than scientific wonder. So I think the sparrow meant something to him, he’s just not sure what.

I wrote a note to myself to look it up.

Of course, my first stop was Hamlet. He references the “fall of the sparrow” just as he is stepping into his fate to finally avenge his father’s death. It’s also the point in the play in which he stops trying to figure everything out and just lets it happen. He has nothing left to do; “the readiness is all.” At this point in the action he’s reached the end of his action. The rest is up to Providence.

Any messenger worth his wings knows that in order for the receiver to understand the message, the messenger has to deliver it using language and context the receiver can understand. In other words, since my husband doesn’t much go in for the subtle messages of the universe, the universe says things firmly and loudly when it wants his attention.

“Let be,” the bird says through her stillness. “The answer you’re seeking is obvious, isn’t it?”