SOL21 Slice 8: The writer bird

 

I am participating in the

 Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOL21).  

All participants are sharing stories about moments in their lives, writing 

 every day for the month of March 2021.

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for nurturing teacher-writers!

I am thinking about stereotypes, thinking about fixed opinions, and how wrong we can be. I learned this from the female cardinal outside my window. Seriously. What do I think I know about birds? What have I heard?

Flit, like a bird.

Attention span of a bird.

Eat, like a bird.

These are pejoratives, right? Limiting one's expectations - especially if said about a person, often with a sarcastic tone. 

Ah, this little bird set me straight. She was perched in the mahonia bush, at my bedroom window, when I opened my curtains. My eyes were immediately drawn to her, although her movements were slow and focused. Perhaps it was her brown-red color in the midst of the deep green of the shrub. Almost immediately, there was a flash of bright red - her male partner? - that flew towards the neighbor's yard. Isn't it strange that the female cardinal is more modest in color than the male? I paused and stared, figuring she would fly off with the male very quickly; why not take a moment, and just savor the surprise of her. So, I stood still and just watched.

My first gift is that she does not fly away.

That male partner has no hold on her.

She has things to do. 

I look at her and 

she looks up at me,

looks directly at me,

'sizes me up'

finds me ignorable,

looks back down, 

continues her work.

What is her work? What is she doing? We were only about four feet from one another, separated by the window, so I was able to observe closely. 

She nibbles pecks pokes

the small emerging yellow seed-like growth 

of the mahonia berries

busy busy busy

remnants of these fall 

indiscriminately

to the ground.

The berries aren't here yet, what is it you are after? Is there nutritional value in this early stage of a berry's growth? Watching her, I realize, this is perhaps where all those 'volunteer' mahonia plants come from in the yard, these surprise droppings, as she works. Or is this some spring task she always performs, that readies the berries to be? Perhaps this isn't eating, but a refining, something that fosters growth in the berries, a spring ritual I've never witnessed? (I am reminded of tiny little ants that walk around and around the circumference of a peony bud, drawing it out, encouraging its bloom.) What more do I not know? 

She sat and sat and sat

close enough

I could see the seed in her mouth

There was a cold and strong wind, yet there she remained, persevering, despite the trembling, wiggling branches. Mahonia is a very sturdy plant, with thick stems, pretty impervious to the wind in general, so it surprised me to see the branches shifting so freely with the wind. She holds on, burrows, hones in on the work to be done. 

The next wonder,

I see that her color is much greater than

"less red than the male" -

(why define her against the male?)

her beautiful body is a blend 

gray, brown, orange, and red,

with lines of deep black around her eyes

as if adorned with high fashion eyeglasses

and this funny, whimsical, bright red tuft on top - alert!

(This last feature cracks me up. I've nicknamed our youngest grandchild "Bird" and, at four months of age, she has this same plumage on top. Her head is bald along the sides, with this wild, irrepressible tuft of hair -  black, not red - on top. Yes, I was right to nickname her Bird!) 

I stare intensely for the first while, and wait to get my tea, just watching her. I am like this bird, focused, but she outlasts me. I get my tea. I make my bed. I check on her, throughout my morning routine. Then I return to the window, to see her through this work of hers. I kid you not, she worked in that mahonia bush for forty minutes.  

She flies away - without a glance at me. 

This female cardinal, this gift of the morning, such stamina, such fortitude. 

Why didn't I think to take a picture?

How about a little poem?

despite the cold

despite the wind

there you are 

so focused

no hurry to leave

look about

nibble peck munch

check it out

pause and continue

look over there

and there

look this way, that way,

back to work,

munch, munch, munch

check those feathers

peck, pick, poke

pause and continue

stand a moment 

primp, plump, shiver, swell,

spread those feathers

stretch

settle back 

nestle

hone in 

soft and focused

pause and continue

"I'm like a bird, I only fly away. 

I don't know where my soul is. 

I don't know where my home is." 

- Nelly Furtado