Home free.

 Today, I had a job to do up at Levi and Mattie's house. They are appealing their property assessment and this requires photos. He asked me if I would do it. Of course, I said yes. 

Something about the Amish is that it is a very serious violation to capture their images even accidently. Probably the saddest thing I ever heard was Mattie's story about her father. As he was dying of covid back in the early days of the pandemic, he was in isolation. His family called him on the phone but he longed to see their faces. He said, "I know it is wrong, but I wish I had a picture of my family."

There are things I don't understand about their way of life, but they are good people and I respect them. I don't need to understand. It is their life.

So I was taking pictures of the buildings from all sides, being mindful of where the kids were at. At one point, Rudy came running into the shot. I lowered my phone quickly. Levi sternly admonished Rudy in German.

I assured Levi that I was being mindful. He said, "I know you are, but they don't need to make the job more difficult!" 

As we worked our way across the property, photographing the sawmill, the workshop, the barns, the poultry sheds, and the two houses (theirs and the home they built for grandma). As we walked by grandma's house, there was a bit of a ruckus. Grandma found a snake in her beans. Levi got a stick and took care of that. 

I waited and I saw the thing that made me sickish the first time I saw it last summer: a sparrow trap. The birds fly into it, triggering a lever which drops them into a wire cage where they are left to die. 8 sparrows fluttered desperate to escape.

Levi and grandma walked over when he was done. They were afraid they had offended me. Thing was, they hadn't. I have killed snakes too close to the house. We have set mousetraps when we needed to. Tim shoots woodchucks in the yard because there are just too many. I have euthenized pets. And really, a woman who eats venison has to acknowledge the circle of life.

But those birds were suffering in the sun.

I said slowly, 'No. I am not offended by the snake. But, Levi, today, I am going to charge you for my work.' 

I have never done that before. He looked surprised, but quickly assured me that was fine. I said, 'My price is those birds,' and I gestured to the cage.

Two more shocked people you never saw in your life. Levi said, 'What would you do with them?' 

I said, 'I will take them to the new house and set them free.'

Grandma said, 'Don't you have sparrows there, then?' in a truly curious way.

I laughed and admitted that we did. I admitted that I couldn't bear to see things suffer. 

I am sure they think I am very peculiar, but when I returned with the photographs a couple hours later, the cage had been moved to the shade. I picked it up and put it in the back of the car and covered it with a blanket to settle the frantic things.

I drove the half hour home and when I got there I set the trap on the garden and opened the door. I watered the garden, and one by one, they left the cage, flying into the trees. The last one hesitated and then flew into the tomato bed, fluttering up and down in the spray in a joyous little dance.