Meaningful moments or why I feel closer to animals than humans

Over many days, a nest made of twigs, straw, and moss grows on the windowsill outside my bathroom window. I have gained a new and shy guest. Months later, the nest looks abandoned. I open the window and gently touch the moss. At that moment, the nest trembles, rustles, and my invisible guest flees.

I close the window and wait. Maybe we’ll get to know each other after all? A little while later, a brown squirrel appears behind the glass, presses its paws against it, and stands upright in front of me. We look at each other with interest. After deciding that I have good intentions, it turns around, presses its paws against a wooden slat in front of the window, and looks into the distance.

We never got that close again, but I’m sure it noticed its spectator as it jumped through the branches, because there was that extra playfulness.

Be well, little friend.

—

A dull thud, a greenfinch falls onto the terrace. It had flown into an upstairs window and crashed to the ground.

I rush outside and kneel down in front of him. There he lies, trembling, with his wings spread out. His fear of death is palpable. ”I’m here for you! The neighbor’s cats wouldn’t hesitate to snatch you away, but you’re safe with me.“ is my inner attitude.

Time fades away. It's just the two of us.

Good thing you didn’t break anything. Fly well!

—

The night is black and I‘m driving quickly across the countryside as usual.

My headlights hit a snow–white owl. It is sitting on a boundary post right next to the road. I wait for it to fly away at any moment. But it stays, looks me in the eyes, completely calm, turns its head to follow the movement of the car, and stays.

Thank you for staying, kindred spirit of the night.

—

Another drive in a dark night, the trees on either side of the road rush by rhythmically.

A shock runs through my limbs. Just in front of my windshield, an owl flies from right to left, elegantly twisting in the air, using the aerodynamics in front of the car, and disappears.

That was close. Or was it? It looked more like intention than accident.

Farewell, you daredevil.

—

A short hike in an alpine valley comes to an end. My path leads past a pasture fence behind which nine cows are grazing. One of them is quite close to the fence.

I stop, and we look into each other’s eyes. My goodness! You’re sad, you know what’s coming. Moments later, the other cows pause and hold still. So we stand there in silence – ten beings together.

Farewell, it was an honor to be with you all.

—

Image credit: Yanukit Raiva via iStockPhoto