The Rescue of the Shining Cuckoo...and Serendipity . . .

      You never know what lovely thing will happen next! 

    And ‘what happened next,’ after my return home yesterday was one of those experiences one treasures and never forgets . . .    

    I love birds. Every year I listen carefully for the first heart-stirring call which signals the arrival of the shining cuckoo to Totara North, New Zealand; where I live. It seems to be in the last week of September that I first hear it. It is now the 22nd November and I have been hearing its beautiful, memorable call, every now and then, ever since. 
   The shining cuckoo returns to New Zealand every spring from its winter sojourn in the tropics. I have always thrilled to its song; and I stop whatever I am doing to listen and pray that one day I might see one. They are known to be very difficult to see; it seems they like to hide. These unusual birds lay lay their eggs in the nests of other species and let foster parents raise their chicks.
    As I was walking along the path to the back door, I heard a strange rustling noise coming from my bedroom window. I turned and saw a bird inside my room, caught between the net curtain and the closed window. I quickly dumped all my packages and ran to my room.

     I had left the south window wide open. The little bird must have flown in and then tried to fly out through the other window. It was trapped and fluttering frantically; and it had a long tangled thread caught on one of its claws. 

     I waited a moment until it was a little quieter and reached up. The sun was reflecting the most beautiful green and blue iridescence on its wings; the flash of colour was stunning! It wasn't a kingfisher; I had never seen such a bird before. It was a little larger than a sparrow, but smaller than a thrush; and it had striped bands of brown and cream on its undersides. I didn’t know what it was. 

   With my own heart beating and fluttering along with the little bird I reached up and caught it gently in my hands. Carefully I untangled the 10 cm long cobwebby thread from its foot. It didn't struggle at this point; it was as though it knew it was being helped. Slowly I carried the exquisite little bird to the south window. And just as I had finally freed it of its impediment I lifted it up in my cupped hands, and it flew up from them, and flew away into the garden.

      Sometime later I learned that this little bird was a shining cuckoo!  

    I was touched by this experience; it meant a lot to me; and spoke to my inner life. I felt it was a gift, for I had prayed that I should see a shining cuckoo one day, and I did!

      You never do know what lovely thing will happen next!

  

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