My Advice Is For The Birds

You would think making a furniture delivery is a routine thing. Not always. In early-August I pulled into a customer’s lot in Harrisburg, Pa. and parked in an alley next to their garage door. It was one of those summer afternoons when the storms are hit or miss. I had been doing a lot of hitting throughout the day- I was glad I seemed to be “missing” at the moment as this customer was getting a fairly good amount of furniture and I needed things to go smoothly because I had more stops across many miles and I was becoming pressed for time.

We were moving along good and then halfway through the process the sky opened up. Things went from sprinkles to full-blast downpour in seconds. We put our game on pause. This did not bother me, even given the time issue, because I had empathy for our customer working without protection on the ground. While I was under the roof of the trailer, he had no ceiling and would get instantly soaked (along with his brand-new furniture.) So we waited.

I stood right at the end of the trailer and watched the rain. Then I looked up and something caught my eye. There was a small bird, way up, about 200 feet or so. Wait, there is another and another… There were at least 10 or 12 tiny birds, Starlings maybe Parakeets, I’m not up on my bird spotting skills. They were flying all over right above us in the pouring rain. The man unloading was deep in the garage and then returned to check on the weather conditions. As he appeared at the garage door opening and looked out, I said, “Check out those birds up there!” He looked up and let out the most honest laugh leading me to believe he got the beauty of the moment. But he quickly returned to the depths of the garage and I returned to watching the birds. They looked they were having so much fun and emitted a vibe that made me feel like they had been eagerly waiting for a chance like this. I don’t think I’ve ever purposely stood on the ground watching birds fly in heavy rain. “Fly” might be the wrong word to use because they were not going anywhere- they stayed right above me for a long time, circling as they flap flapped with the occasional short glide, then repeat. It was amazing to watch and I was getting paid for it, definitely not a routine delivery.

The very next morning I was ready to depart our warehouse and pulled up to the guard shack on my way out. (Someone has to verify that drivers are leaving with the correct trailer, so they look at your paperwork and stickers on the furniture inside the trailer and match everything up.) The “guard” was actually one of our yard jockeys that is on the injured reserve list and is helping out in this capacity under “light duty.” I offered up my usual, “Hey man..how’s it going?”

“Oh I don’t know…. I’m not as excited about this whole thing anymore.”

I asked what that meant.

“Did you see the torrential downpours yesterday? I don’t know if I want to be out in weather like that anymore.”

I spoke without thinking, something I have been doing skillfully since December of ‘72.

“But the rain is cleansing. It’s good to be out in the rain. Not everyone gets to do that!”

He had this puzzled look on his face that made me continue, only if to see if I could make him more puzzled.

“There are people who sit in offices all day and probably look out the window in rainstorms and wish they could be out there playing in the rain. You’re actually kind of blessed.”

He went on to say that he’s been “playing in the rain” for umpteen years and he’s just not sure he wants to do it much longer. I made another sort of analogy about how blessed he actually was, said my goodbyes and made tracks to my waiting RV and a schedule I can never seem to keep to very well.

As I climbed in the driver’s seat I grew disgusted with myself. The internal dialogue was demeaning: “What’s wrong with me? Where do I come up with this shit? Here’s a man looking for support in his pity party and instead of obliging him I offer a viewpoint in the complete opposite direction of his? How hokey-pokey.”

Later in the day I randomly thought of the birds in the rain the day prior, and that in turn brought me back to my morning conversation with my friend and his lack of desire to play in the rain. It all made sense where I came up with the suggestions that flowed so freely from my mouth. I’ve always been a believer in the fact that we should follow nature’s lead, for therein lies peace, tranquility, happiness and health. Although I never watched birds in the rain before, once I did I determined there must be some kind of value to being out in the rain. If the birds do it, then we should too. (I think I tried to verbalize this a bit to my friend without telling him about the birds I saw. He shot back something back along the line of, “Unless it is acid rain.” In my opinion he needs more time in nature or meditation [possibly both] to counteract the acidity of his thoughts and life outlook.)

So this was a true story about how a less-than-routine delivery taught me something new. Perhaps I should not share my take on life's situations so freely, but it cannot be helped. I realize that many folks don’t care for “happy go lucky” people and I am fine with that. It’s been a long time since I gave up on trying to fit in and focused more instead on living, thinking and talking genuinely. I’m happier and more at peace for it.

Enjoy what remains of summer. I’d tell you to stay dry if find yourself caught in a rainstorm that pops up suddenly, but you know I cannot do that. Go play in the rain, even if it’s uncomfortable at first, you’ll learn to like it and if not, consider my advice “for the birds” and carry an umbrella.