Fellow Mortals--Compassion Changes Everything

That old dead tree in your yard, or along the road may not have any leaves this year--but there is life inside!

It could be spiders or other insects, or it could be wild baby birds and mammals.

The Migratory Bird Treaty Act (MBTA) was passed over 100 years ago to protect wildlife from being taken, injured, or killed, after some species were taken to the brink of extinction by wanton killing.

Wildlife doesn't belong to anyone--all of us are stewards of wild ones and the earth.

Fellow Mortals has admitted more orphaned and injured wild birds and mammals as a result of tree cutting this spring than ever in the past.  Tree cutting is being done everywhere--and we know thousands of wild ones are being killed and orphaned as a result.

Why are trees being cut?  To make room for roads, gas pipelines, double-wide mobile homes, because they restrict view, and sometimes because the trees or dead limbs pose a hazard if left standing.

Most often--there is no thought about what might be living inside until it's too late.

We are thankful for the caring people who don't just walk away when they find life inside a fallen branch or tree trunk--like the people who have recently rescued and brought screech owl and sparrow nestlings and eggs, and infant squirrels to us for care--and we are thankful to all of YOU who make it possible for us to feed these hungry babies.

If you have a dead branch or tree on your property, ask yourself if it's a danger.  If not--please consider letting it fall on its own time and in the meantime let it provide a home for the wild ones.

That old dead tree has lots of life in it yet!

Links:

• The Migratory Bird Treaty Act

“Nature’s Mighty Law”

"Look abroad through Nature's range; Nature's mighty law is Change."  Robert Burns

In the morning mist, a young grey squirrel is barely visible where she sits with a nut in the crook of a tree, her hard-won prize held carefully in furry fingers.  Across the field, a formation of geese sleeps, heads and elegant necks tucked for warmth among the downy feathers on their backs.  Four bright and raucous crows announce a passing red-tailed hawk, and the squirrel drops her nut to scurry into a cavity of the tree.  The geese dream on.

Each one of these wild ones has survived amidst the changes felt across months and seasons.  Eating, sleeping, playing, surviving—they move on.

A ways distant from the oak where the squirrel now hides, and down the road, a still, frost-covered form is all that remains of an opossum who passed suddenly in the night.  I move her gently from her place of death as a sign of respect for her life—knowing that the crows will eventually find her and complete her physical passing.  I move on.

In the midst of loss and suffering we cannot alleviate, when we sometimes feel like everything is falling apart—nothing is more important than finding a way to move forward, to move on.  With every act of kindness and compassion, we move past grief and fear toward hope.

These past months have been a test—and you have passed with flying colors!  Despite uncertainties and challenges that threatened to break you, you responded to the crying of the orphaned fawn and the plight of the nestling bird helpless on the ground; you found a way to someone who could care for the eyes-closed newborn bunny and who could give a family to the duckling wandering down a dangerous street; you travelled hours for the sake of a ‘pigeon’ nobody else cared about, and you never, ever took your eyes off the sparrow. 

Each of us, no matter where life may find us, still has something to give that will be life-affirming, even life-changing for another—no matter how insignificant that gift may feel. 

Thank you for the gift of your time or funds, great or small.  You are the reason that we were able to keep our staff, bring interns in for the busy summer months, and cover the cost of running a wildlife hospital.  You are the reason our doors never closed to the wild ones and the people who need us.

1840 wild ones, 1014 birds, 826 mammals, 365 days, 123 communities, 100 species, 79 wood duck ducklings, 35 years, 31 white-tailed deer fawn, 25 chimney swifts, 25% increase in wildlife calls, 16-hour days, 4 wildlife rehabilitators, 3 beaver, 2 eagles, 1 pileated woodpecker—and you.

 In the aftermath of the storm, from within the tangle of broken trunks comes a heavy ‘Rap-Rap-Rap’ echoing through the damaged woods.  I step through fallen boughs in search of the source and finally look up, and up, and up to see the brilliant red crown of a pileated woodpecker silhouetted in the broken canopy, wielding his strong bill like a sculptor to create a new purpose for the jagged remains of the fallen tree.  Moving on.