August 2023
I first encountered the goldfinch when one or more made a habit of flying into the panes of a long-ago first-floor office window. Generally, after a few disoriented moments in the shrubbery below, they would fly away.
A quick query to the internet (and remembering the bird decals on glass walls at the Camden aquarium) led to my placing silhouettes of flying birds on the windows. Like magic, no more dazed goldfinches!
One evening last week, I was cruising along Black Horse Pike and was startled by something striking my car just above the open driver-side window. The thud was loud enough that I was sure a gull had glanced off the top of the door frame. A few wisps of down blew around the car interior. I hoped the bird had managed to continue on its way.
Next morning, I found a dead goldfinch on the back seat. With a twinge of sadness, I went to the garage for a trowel. I picked up the bird by a claw — it weighed next to nothing! — and dug a hole in the yard.
As I placed the bird in its grave, I thought about an appropriate bracha, a blessing to reflect the moment. What came to mind was
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱ’לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם מְשַנֶּה הַבְּרִיּוֹת
baruch atta adonai eloheinu melech ha’olam, meshaneh hab’riyot.
We bless You, Adonai our God, Eternal Sovereign, for the variety of creatures.
Traditionally this bracha is recited when one sees a creature, humans included, that varies physically from the expected in a significant way. It is a reminder that a living thing with a physical aspect other than is typical is still a creation of God, no less a reflection of the Divine image than the conventional.
I wasn’t viewing the goldfinch as something aberrant; with this bracha I was recognizing the bird as a creature singularly beautiful, different from every other type of bird in our area. I covered the little bird with earth, patted the small mound flat, replaced the trowel and went to work.