Failure

Yesterday I tried to help a bird.  I caught glimpses of it in the walled area several tmes while I was working outside.   Finally I realized it was injured--feathers awry on the top of its little head.  Cat or hawk attack?  What to do?  I didn't know.  
'Twilight Zone':

I looked at songbird rescue sites.  Put it in a small box.  I got it into a small box without examining it--I didn't want to stress it any more than necessary.  Keep it warm, dark, quiet.  A dribble of water on the beak to prevent dehydration.  I called a rescue group;  the woman was curt, testy, cold--call me in the morning if it is still alive and you can bring it over.  I'm sure they get all kinds of nutjobs calling, so I didn't take it personally. 
Clematis 'Perle d'Azur'

In the morning the bird wasn't alive.  I was able to look it over--the damage to the head was minimal--but one of its legs was completely gone. 
Trachelium caeruleum

So, all I did was to give it a warm, dark, quiet place to die.  I felt like I had to try to help, but perhaps I did the wrong thing.  I read a comment recently from a man who said something like, "If it's the right thing to do, it's the right thing to do, even if you know you'll likely fail."  Helping felt like the right thing to do.

I found that thought comforting.
 
A sad little failure, surrounded by a delirium of flowers.