Oct. 30, 2013
Wild bird tells late arrival of autumn after long, hot summer in Japan
My wife and I spent one night with a seriously injured wild bird in late October. The bird, believed to be a spotted redshank, a migratory bird, was squatting right in the middle of a wet road in a chilly rain when he was found by my wife early in the morning. He was desperately flapping his wings, but he was unable to fly, according to my wife. He appeared to be almost dying, with his red legs numbed and his right eye damaged. She decided to take home the bird quickly, skipping a morning stroll with our dog. My wife feared the bird may be dead as traffic would soon become busy on the road.
She carefully brought him into a small plastic bag, which she happened to have with her, while using her umbrella. As soon as she was back home, she told this to the wife next door, who wasted no time to come up with an unused flowerpot and a bunch of straws for her. “A nest can be made with this stuff, you know,” she said.
My wife followed her advice and placed a makeshift nest she prepared at a corner of the garage. She brought a piece of fish meat and a few drops of fruit juice for the bird. She also told this story to a friend of her, who is well versed with wild birds. After seeing a photo taken by my wife with her mobile phone camera, he concluded the bird she rescued is a redshank wearing summer weathers, in view of its long, sharp bill. "You've done a good thing," he told my wife.
Spotted redshanks, a kind of sandpiper, spend summer in Siberia and fly southward from autumn to winter to Southeast Asia. Some of them stop over in Japan en route to the south, if not frequently.
Keen, moving emotions come home even to persons like me, who have renounced the world as priests. The autumnal evening is coming; a flock of sandpipers is flying away from a brook.
(A personal translation)
This is a waka poem made by a samurai-turned priest, self-named Saigyo, who left many impressive poems in waka anthologies compiled late in the 12th century.
My wife went to see the bird from time to time after preparing the nest for him. Initially, he little moved with the food untouched, but later, she saw him slightly moving his head.
Japan was enveloped by heat waves almost throughout this summer. A few typhoons brought rainfalls to some parts of the Japanese Archipelago, but hot weather continued into September and early October. What Japanese weathermen call the “tropical night” with the lowest temperature in a day not falling below 25 degrees centigrade (77 degrees on the Fahrenheit scale) was recorded at not a few places across Japan even in September. But autumn has finally come as the seasonal clock turns ahead by a notch.
Migratory birds have come to signal the end of the long summer, telling Japanese they must be prepared for cooler weather in the months to come. As autumn is seen to be shorter than usual this year, weather is expected to be colder toward the year’s end.
The injured redshank was seen to recoup his strength after staying a few days with us, but my wife saw the nest vacant the following morning. She missed the bird, but she prayed he would be alive somewhere. She had a chat with the wife next door several days later and she was told, “My husband says he saw a rare wild bird climbing up a tree in our garden a few days ago.” The bird must be “what you took care of,” she said. My wife felt quite relieved to hear this.
