I’ve learned that the farm is a great teacher of good and bad, happy and sad, beautiful and grim. This afternoon, Maria and I sat down in our dining room to share lunch, it was chilly and Maria wanted to start a fire.

She opened the stove door and I heard a shock of surprise and grief. Sitting by the glass, beautiful and perfectly intact, was a Bluebird looking right up at her as she leaned over.

If you have been paying attention to Maria, you will know this was a very hard thing for her to see, especially in that way.

The bird was beautiful, both of his or her eyes were wide open. In the past day or so, we both noticed Bud staring at the stove pipe, we looked inside but saw and heard nothing.

He must have heard or sensed the bird caught in the stovepipe, which sticks out all the way to the roof.

This happened to a different bird a few years ago, and we had a stove cleaner put up a mesh fence, it either fell or blow off or the bluebird found an opening. It’s too high up for us to see.

Maria was crushed to see this, we took the bird out of the stove and she carried it out to the garden and dug a hole right next to where Gus is buried.

We sat down for a few minutes and held one another, and then went back to work. The farm teaches pain and grief, but it also teaches acceptance. There is no life on a farm without death, and we have seen a lot of it.

I respect death, as I respect life, but this beautiful bird looked it was trying to call out to us, and speak to us. There is no life without death, it is not a shock to me. This one seemed especially sad. In death, and covered with ashes, this creature was so beautiful. Peaceful rest to it.

Bluebirds are considered spirit animals, who carry messages from the spirit world. The bluebird meaning is happiness and pleasure. They represent pleasure, prosperity, and good health.

Perhaps that was the message of this bird to us, to remind us to be hopeful and at peace.

As best we could re-construct this sad death, the bird must have gotten stuck in the pipe, but since it wasn’t burned in any way, must not have died in the fire, but from the smoke the fire created.

He or she either fell all the way down or fought their way down, the wings were outstretched, the beak was at the window, the bird must-have tried to get out before dying.

We will have the stover come again to make sure the mesh is intact.

A hard thing to see, the bird was so beautiful and was looking straight at us. Marie buried it in the garden, and we sat together on the bench for a while. Then we went to work.