Freedom Today was the day. As I sipped my rich coffee with thick cream before the sun rose, I decided it was time for Jack to go free. His tail feathers were frayed from his near constant fluttering against the wire mesh of his cage. I did not want them to get so damaged that he would not be able to use them to fly when he left his cage. A part of me did not want Jack to leave, but I knew as a wild bird it would be best if he lived his bird life as he was supposed to, out in…
Author: Jenny
Jack Sparrow
A bit of time has passed since the last chapter in the Jack Sparrow saga. If you care to refresh your memory of the story, or if you are new to Jack’s story, the previous three posts are here: (First) https://earthwisehorse.com/jack-sparrow/ , (Second) https://earthwisehorse.com/jack-sparrow-2/ , (Third) https://earthwisehorse.com/jack-sparrow-3/ Caged Jack clutched his perch in the closet. His beak was half open as he panted. His feathers were all puffed out. I managed to close my mouth after his unexpected flight and began to think about how I would catch him. Since I had not handled him except to pick him up a few times for…
Winter White
Above me the sky is white. Snow as fine as sand drifts down. Under my feet, the ground is white. I am cocooned by white. It is cold. The whole last week has been subzero. The temperature bottomed out at -40 degrees Fahrenheit a couple nights ago. Or that is my best guess, as my electronic thermometer quit reading after -39 degrees. I had no intention of poking my nose out the front door to look at the mercury thermometer. Cold is cold. Now, it had warmed up to -7. Wow. Following days cooped up in the house, I went…
Jack Sparrow
The Flight My diesel pickup growled as it pulled the horse trailer up the final grade into the ranch yard. Pebbles popped away from the tires as they dug into the track. In the back seat, Rowdy, my blue heeler dog, quivered to be let out to chase cottontails. The horses stirred in the trailer. They were ready to be out too, on this hot July day. Visions of belly high green mountain brome grass danced in their heads, I was sure. Beside me in the passenger seat, Jack Sparrow’s hungry cheeps drifted up from his bucket nest. Of course. “You will have to…
Jack Sparrow
The Feeding I swam upwards from the deep, velvet darkness of a good night’s sleep. Robins belted out their sunrise song through the open window, and farther in the distance meadowlarks added their liquid notes. The sparrows in the top of the fir tree squabbled amongst themselves. Then I remembered. Jack Sparrow! Last night I had left him under the fold of his rag in his bucket-nest, shut in my bookroom. I just about sprang out of bed and ran down the hall to see how he was. But then, a thought held me still. What if Jack had not made it through the night? Maybe the shock of…
Jack Sparrow
The Tumble The sparrows squabbled in the top of the tall blue-green fir tree in my backyard. As I sat on the deck early one evening last July, I could not see them, but they carried on with their bird-argument among the needles and cones of the fir tree. They had a nest up there, I knew, and I imagined the parents feeding the little sparrows bugs as the nestlings jostled and squawked in their nest. Noisy little things. My black cat, Taz, strolled around the corner of the house. Something caught his eye in the mown grass under the pine tree. He trotted over,…