by Roberta Whitman Hoff

I WATCH THE LITTLE BIRD AS IF I WERE A TREE

Roberta Whitman Hoff

as I stood still in reverie beside the Japanese Maple Tree this tiny creature landed an inch from my face on a thin branch and my breath made no difference to her as she stood beside my cheek as if I were part of the tree or a leaf.

I had saved a life that morning and was pausing to review the moment, this feeling in awe; all I could do was stand still so quiet at the thought that a woman had lived because I had been with her and how grateful her grown son was that I had dialed 911 and the ambulance and medics had come.

I held this new experience inside my being as still as the Japanese maple tree where the tiny grey sparrow with observing eyes looked at me as if I were a leaf and not eyes seeing and then I remembered I was not a tree and the sparrow of course flew away.