In 2017, I lived in a house that had a backyard porch with big, plexiglass windows. We put up lights to alert the birds, but inevitably there would be an occasional bird or two that left our yard with a new hairdo and a headache.

One day, I came across one such bird, a field sparrow. I heard the thunk from halfway around the side yard, so I came over to check on him. When I saw him lying there, disoriented and stunned, I abandoned my better judgment (and what I now know to be best practice) and gently picked him up to see if he was still alive. Sure enough, once he was in my palms, there it was: the quick rise-and-fall of his plush breast. I was captivated. And also a little damp, seeing as he almost certainly peed on me.

I think my hands were warmer than the chilly porch, because he settled in for a minute or two while he recovered. He was in no rush to leave. And then, once he was ready, he did a little old man hop-and-shuffle, looked left, looked right, looked up at me, and then took off.

To me, this is how I view my role as your editor: I am here to take you from stunned to flying. And I would be honored to be your safe landing place while we work together.