The winged creature flying in sudden, startled and stunted circles in the shed after the door had been opened by someone ready to cut the grass was either a bat or a bird.

Impossible to tell.

Not wanting to be bitten by a bat, caution took over. A moment's hesitation. Then the mower's handle was carefully gripped and the machine pulled out of the shed. Knowing the bat or bird would have to be taken care of eventually, the decision was made to hold the door open and see what happened.

Only moments were required.

The bird-not a bat at all-flew quickly through the late afternoon light and straight into a bush by the house.

Silent during all of its panicky circling in the small shed, and quiet as it flew out, the little bird absolutely erupted into a brief burst of song, sounding like a hallelujah of pure joy and thankfulness and at a volume one would have expected from a bird five times its size. And then the bird fell silent.

There was nothing left to say but, 'You're welcome' and marvel in the wonder of how good it feels to help a fellow creature, no matter how small.

There was more than the voice of a bird in its joyful song of freedom and life recovered.

-JKW-