Listen to the Universe(Anita Frauenshuh) While bathing my horse, I noticed a Sparrow Hawk in the huge Oak above the cross ties. As soon as I set the natural sponge on top the post, he swooped down and flew back to the limb with it. I scolded him, but he refused to drop it. The next day after riding, I was hosing Cefi and I noticed the hawk on the fence post about 20 feet away staring at me. Even when the neighbor stopped to talk, the bird stayed there. We joked about the little thief and wondered what he had done with my horse's sponge. It was no longer visible on the limb of the tree or anywhere on the ground nearby.

The next day, while working in the backyard, there was the hawk drinking at the little waterfalls we had built at the end of the deck. Perhaps she had a nest up in one of our huge Granddaddy Oaks, I thought. But it seemed as though she was trying to tell me something, because she did not mind that I had walked so close as I went past her.

I remembered my friend, Louise, who had recently passed away. I had become her caregiver after her stroke, and she had lived with us for the past three years. When the doctors told us that she was dying, she joked that she would come back to visit me, so I should keep watching for her after she passed. Louise had a wonderful sense of humor even though she was almost 90. When tears swelled in my eyes, she made me promise to stay happy, and always look for the good in others. She had always kept upbeat, and even when the doctor gave us the bad news that she did not have long to live, and he asked her if there was anything she would like him to get for her, she said, "How about a shot of bourbon, doc, it looks like you could use one yourself!" (Louise did not drink). She had a quick wit, and this brought a smile to our face at a very difficult moment.

Lousie knew how much I loved birds, and I wondered now if this could be her way of reminding me that although death separates us for a time, those we love are always close by. If we just listen we can feel their love. I laughed at the little sponge thief sitting at the side of the garden pond, and spoke to her in all seriousness. "Bring back my sponge, or show me right now where you have hidden it!" She stayed put, just staring at me as though she wanted to talk.

The next morning, I opened the patio curtains to see the hawk right in front of the deck stairs looking up at me so forlorn. I opened the door, and she did not fly away. Instead, she spread her wings to show her elegant wing span, then dove her head down as though she was bowing, and her head was under the first step. She did not move. I could not believe what I had just seen. She still did not move. I stepped outside, and in a few moments realized that she was dead. I started sobbing, and my husband came running to see what was the matter. It was like losing a good friend, because I felt such a strong connection to this Hawk.

After my husband buried the bird in my garden, I began to ponder why this had happened. Why did she act like she had something to say to me? Why did this Hawk keep coming so close to me as though she wanted me to help her?

Then it dawned on me. While working at the horsefarm for 20 years, we had always been careful to keep the natural sponges away from the dogs so that they wouldn't chew them up. The owner had reminded me that getting a piece of sponge lodged in their throat could kill them. Now I realized that this Hawk had most likely bit off a piece of the sponge searching for little bugs inside, and it may have prevented her from eating or swallowing food. Since she had got the sponge from where I always took care of the horses, perhaps she was seeking help from me. If only I would have realized that a Hawk that unafraid of people might have a serious problem that needed attention, perhaps a Vet could have saved her life. This incident has made me more aware of nature. It has made me realize that the phrase, "being your brother's keeper," may also apply to wildlife.

Today I tend to many critters needs in my gardens. The crows have become so friendly, they come to my patio door to crow if I do not have a supply of peanuts or breadcrumbs out on the ground under the birdbath for them to eat. They also let me know when the birdbath is out of water, because they have to dip the bread in the water before they will eat it. I have little saucers of water for the geicos, since they eat the bugs and keep my flowers looking their best. My daughter gave me a butterfly kit, and I raise butterflies to keep the garden looking beautiful. One day as I went to fill the water dish for little critters, a butterfly was floating, looking quite dead. I scooped him up in my hand, and as I was bringing him inside to show the children in my daughter's daycare, the little critter started crawling in my hand. I blew softly on his wings as they were too wet for him to flutter. As they dried, I brought him over to a large Zinnia and gently put him on top of the flower in the sun. In a couple minutes, after basking in the sun, he fluttered off. What a miracle that day, to be able to save a butterfly's life.

Forever will I be grateful for the lesson of the Sparrow Hawk. She came into my life at a time when I was sad enough to need a little boost, and wise enough to figure out why nature calls to us to listen. Listen to the music of the Universe, it is God's gift to us. What we do to keep it alive is our gift back to Him.

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