There is a parable here, somewhere, trying to get out.
A parable about how we can be trapped by our hungers, if we aren't careful. And are unlucky.
The top fell off of the bird feeder. I'm not sure how. I must not have attached it securely—lately I've been refilling it a lot, every day. The birds are hungry, and crowd around the feeder. Maybe it rattled off.
Or maybe this small bird, unable to push past its bigger fellow birds and grab a few morsels, pried it off, and plunged inside. Doubtful though.
Either way, a mix of appetite and misfortune. The bird fell, or, worse, hopped in. Then couldn't get out.
But his luck changed.
Heading to pick up some Thai food—hungry myself—I noticed the empty bird feeder. Then as I approached to fill it, saw the trapped bird, looking somewhere between indignant and aghast at why he, of all the many hungry birds, found himself in this predicament. My heart went out to him: been there, buddy.
I studied the situation, then slowly removed the feeder from the iron hook and set it gently on its side upon the grass. The bird, sensing his chance, zoomed out of the feeder and onto a bush, without a backward glance of thanks. Beyond offering a reminder that the same indifferent fate that traps us can also set us free, if we are patient. And lucky enough to get a little help.