There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. —Hamlet
In all my life, it might be the thing I’ve looked for hardest, apart from unrelenting love. A bird: not big or bright, no bird of paradise, no pheasant of Tibet. Instead, a sparrow, a meager lump not quite come into focus in a misty lens. I saw it only once, half a lifetime ago. It’s haunted me ever since, hag of my heart.
Login to view the full article
Permission required for reprinting, reproducing, or other uses.