Five seconds: Bird in hand

An interlude from the sturm und drang von Trump

On the morning of April 30, Donald Trump's 100th day in office, I pondered the fact that 1,360 days remained in the reign of the Felon-in-Chief and his fascist allies. Depressed by this fact, I indulged in a cheap and potentially therapeutic distraction: I put some black-oil sunflower seeds in my right hand and held them out with the hope that a chickadee might take them.

I had low expectations, but at least the exercise would get me away, however briefly, from talk of Trump's tariffs, his gulag in El Salvador, his extortion of law firms, his blatant corruption, the crackpots in his cabinet, his damage to the federal government and U.S. goodwill overseas.

I stood between a bird feeder and a hemlock tree. Two chickadees darted through the air and landed in the hemlock. This is how they always approach the feeder. They never fly directly to it. They always stop in the hemlock first, look for an opening, then perch for a second or two on the feeder, just long enough to grab a sunflower seed.

My brother Eddie sometimes fed wild birds from his hand. He stood near his backyard feeders, and they came to him. The chickadees were the most trusting. I think he told me he'd had luck with a titmouse, too. I wish I could remember the details. I think of my brother every day. I miss all the conversations we would have had about the evil that's come to the White House, especially with regards to immigrants, being the sons of one ourselves.

But now I put that aside and held out the sunflower seeds, and -- miracle or beginner's luck -- one of the chickadees appeared on my finger tips. It was light as a cotton ball, but its feet gave the slightest pinch. As I write this, I can still feel that sensation, the mild pinch from its feet. The little bird took a seed and flew away, and I felt the soft draft from its wings as it fled to the interior of the hemlock. I was excited, but remained still, and it came back -- slight pinch from its feet, draft from its wings -- and gone again.

The photo atop this post is a screen shot from a YouTube video about feeding wild birds from your hand. The photo below is mine -- out of focus from a clumsy and unsuccesful attempt to get a shot of a chickadee eating from my hand later on the same day, Trump 100. As you can see, for its afternoon snack, the chickadee went to the feeder instead. But I was not disappointed because I had had those five seconds -- slight pinch, soft draft -- of morning glory in my hand. And in my hand forever.