The damaged wing

It was the longest summer of my life, the heat was torturous and unrelenting, like my life. It all started in May, I lost my job and soon was having money troubles and found myself wondering how I’d be able to survive, by the end of June, I had received my eviction notice and had to leave my two-bed apartment in the City. I had sold most of my belongings by this point to try to afford everyday essentials like food, the gas and electric, but it quickly went.

I grew up in Mexico and when I moved to New York, I had thought I’d finally made it, but after years of working hard, and getting various qualifications to get a decent enough job, quite frankly I was exhausted and slowly losing the will to live, New York no longer had the wonder I once saw, now it only looked grey to me, even in the height of summer.

I had spoken to my family for help along the way, but they couldn’t afford to help me except to offer me a small one bed cabin that once belonged to my grandparents in Mexico. I was grateful that I wasn’t going to have to be homeless and I had just enough money to take the four-hour trip to get to the cabin in the middle of nowhere. Was I sad that I was giving up on everything moving back- no! New York had become a place where I felt drained, where everything felt fake and I was done living this way, trying to make it in a place that would take everything away and give you nothing in return.

With just two black bags of belongings, I made my way back to Mexico in early July, the trip back was a blur, I wasn’t excited, but I wasn’t dreading it either, I had gotten used to a state of numbness. I had lost my job, my ‘home’, but the worst part is that I had lost a part of me along the way. Upon arriving in Mexico, I was greeted by my uncle who drove me to the cabin- my new home, it wasn’t much to look at, the wooden cabin had a small yard that chickens roamed freely around, the woodwork looked tattered and the two small steps onto the front patio looked like they needed some maintenance also. The creaky front door was decorated in flowery stained glass and about an inch of dirt. The two windows on the front looked like they would fall out by opening them and were also covered in dirt, but it would be home for now. Once my uncle said his goodbyes and handed over the keys, I entered the cabin to see how much work it would need, I was told there was running water coming from an old well in the back and the place had electric, so it wasn’t all bad. The inside was surprisingly comforting, it was adorned in small fairy lights, and given that it had been used as a rental for tourists, it wasn’t in such bad condition, it was almost cozy. I soon unpacked my meager belongings and walked up the stairs to the open-spaced bedroom and just collapsed on the bed, I’d get started in the morning, but for now, I wanted to forget the past couple of months and slip into oblivion.

Around 4am, I awoke to squawking, I assumed it would stop, but after what felt like an hour, the squawking didn’t stop! Glancing out the window, the sun was barely kissing the horizon, but there was enough light to see something colorful flapping around on the floor. Grabbing my shoes and my phone for a torch, I went out to investigate, and there, less than 5 meters from the cabin next to a row of trees was an injured Scarlet Macaw. It didn’t surprise me, they were native to the area, but the poor thing looked ragged and exhausted, similar to how I felt with jet lag to be honest. I went back into the cabin and grabbed a towel to wrap it in so it wouldn’t get attacked by other wildlife, I didn’t have much money, but figured they’d be a bird doctor in the area to help. After doing a quick Google search, I soon found someone that could help, they didn’t open for another 3 hours, but it would take a half-hour to get there on the old pushbike that was left at the cabin, in the meantime, I grabbed a basin of water and an old ragged towel that was in the bathroom to give the birdie a clean. It didn’t look too badly injured, but it was holding his wing at a strange angle. Trying to approach it was nerve-racking, I didn’t know if it would try to peck me or scuttle away, but the poor thing just looked exhausted and sad. I slowly wiped down its magnificent colorful feathers while it sat relatively still, I tried my best to clean its damaged wing without hurting it. There was no food in the cabin but found an old pack of nuts in my bag and offered them to it. It didn’t seem interested or even bother with them. For the first time in a while, I felt a connection to something, a bird that had a heaviness and exhaustion to it, a bird that had lost a vital part of itself and could no longer fly, for a moment it was like looking into a mirror, to see something so beautiful beat down, to be covered in color but to only feel grey, it didn’t seem right and I was going to do my best to get it some help.

Once I had wrapped up the macaw in a towel so it could sit safely in my backpack, I placed the bag into the basket on the front of the bike and prayed its wheels wouldn’t collapse once I sat on it, with Google navigation set up, I got onto the rusty old thing and made the journey towards the local town. With the sun now up, it was getting hotter and hotter, the wind whizzing past became a welcome friend, I looked down at the poor birdie and wondered if it felt the exhilaration of the wind when it flew, then felt bad knowing it may not know that again, determination filled me, I’d make sure it got the best treatment. I named the bird Hope on that journey, because it was going to need a lot of it. Once I arrived in town, it wasn’t hard to find the bird doctor, I had called ahead luckily as it seemed quite busy. Once I had checked in with reception, I sat in the waiting area with Hope wrapped in my arms, I felt protective of it, like a mother caring for a child and yet, I had never been particularly maternal, but here I was, sat waiting to see a bird doc trying to comfort a bird. After a short while, a woman shouted us into the office, I stood next to the examination table as I watched her lift its wing and move it around concerned it would be hurting it.

After a thorough inspection, I learned that the wing wasn’t too badly damaged, and the macaw just needed a rest. When I asked about where its home may be, I was informed that it may have been destroyed and often birds get injured in the process. My eyes filled with teams as I looked upon the beautiful bird, not only was it hurt, but it had lost its home, again I could relate and, in that moment, I wondered if the bird had come to me as I could understand it given my current situation, like we were meant to be together to help one another heal. The name hope started to make much more sense, it had been a while since I cared about myself or anything for that, and yet this bird came along and I started to care, I could see that it may be damaged but not broken, it was healing and would benefit from recovery, just as I would, and we’d do it together. It wouldn’t be easy but one day we’d soar again and fly and see where the wind takes us and find a new home, maybe not together as our paths may not lead us to the same destination, but we’d know that we wasn’t alone along the way.