Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – April 28, 2004
Birds
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – April 28, 2004 – God gave us the gift of ‘birds’ for a day such as this one. A bit gray and dull with rain threatening and just cool enough to know that spring is still elusive. I had work to do today but I was sorely lacking in the motivation department, even though I did one of my dreaded tasks first thing, no doubt motivated by yesterday’s words on procrastination.
However, for some reason I can’t summon up much energy today. My throat is scratchy and I’m having a day of “overwhelmedness”. Just as a wee pick-me-up, and solely in the interests of warding off any cold germs, I’m having a tea with brandy.
As I was returning from my dastardly morning task, I was driving south on the Don Valley Parkway when I noticed three sea gulls flying alongside the road. Unusual to see them away from the lake, but perhaps gulls have tasks to perform as well, such as an early morning bird conference and now they were on their way back home. I took some comfort from that thought.
As I watched their wings rise and fall and then rest as they floated on an air current, I was filled with a sense of wonder and gratitude. How wonderful that we have birds in our world. This afternoon I watched a pair of little sparrows in my back yard collecting twigs from my garden to build a nest. An incredibly industrious pair, they flew off with sprigs that were bigger than they were. They worked away for an hour and then apparently satisfied with their efforts they disappeared. Just imagine having to re-build your home every spring!
I sat and thought about the times when I’ve been awed by birds. I recalled a trip I made few years ago along 12 Mile Drive near Bodega Bay – south of San Francisco. I had stopped for lunch about noon and was on my way again by one-thirty. The road was narrow and wound up in s-curves and sharp hairpin turns high over the rocky coastline below. The watchword in driving was ‘slow’. I stopped a few times along the way at the designated look-out posts and watched the ocean far beneath.
The waves crashed onto the rocks and sent glistening sprays of water high into the air. I sat on one of the benches for a long time enjoying the sun on my face and the peaceful beauty of nature. I was just about to leave and climb back into my car when a shadow temporarily interrupted the sun’s light. An enormous hawk had floated by just over my head. I thought about Tippi Hedrin in Hitchcock’s film The Birds. However this fellow meant no harm. He was soon joined by his friends and I watched as twelve to fifteen of these majestic birds hunted along the cliff. I tried to keep track of them individually but to no avail. I watched whichever bird was the closest.
If we think the Snow Birds put on an ariel display of unprecedented proportions – think again. The soaring, diving and recovering to climb even higher and then swoop down the sheer face of the cliff was awe-inspiring. Mid-flight crashes were averted at the last moment with easy, rolled turns in opposing directions. One huge bird drifted along for what seemed like an eternity and then instantly re-grouped into a monumental dive that sent him plunging into the spray below. I lost track of him, but he was soon replaced by an equally impressive hawk, watching the cliff walls.
This exquisite, winged ballet went on for about an hour, and then as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone. I felt privileged to have seen these beautiful birds of prey in their mid-afternoon foray for food. No other cars stopped to witness this amazing gift of flight and I still think it was planned just for me.
A few weeks ago I rented the video “Winged Migration” and was entranced by the footage of an incredible variety of birds, as they made their late fall flights to their wintering grounds and then returned, driven by instinct, to their spring breeding grounds. Some species fly for thousands of miles through unbelievable conditions to their destinations. These birds don’t have any problems with rationalization or procrastination. They just do what nature intended and get on with their day! I could learn a lesson from these birds.
I was driving up the Bayview Extension one day in 1984, when a baby pigeon fell out of his nest on the wall of the underpass. He was flopping along the side of the road while his frantic mother flew back and forth beside him. I pulled over to the side of the road and looked up at the bridge. It was impossible to get him back to his nest so I picked him up and put him in a box that I had in my trunk. I thought, “This is just what I need”. When I got home I cut some air holes in the box and gave him a cracker. I called the Zoo the next day and found out what to feed him. Then I went out and bought a cage. I named him “Pidge”. I didn’t expect to get attached to Pidge but I did! He grew into a fine young bird during the summer. My next task was to teach him to fly. For a number of days I took him out to the back yard and gently swung him up in the air and let him flutter back down to the ground. I don’t think Pidge was particularly bright and the concept of flight seemed beyond his grasp. However I persevered. One afternoon after a long lesson – Pidge all of a sudden spread his wings and soared up to the roof of the house and disappeared. A moment later he peeked over the edge, cocked his head a couple of times and gently floated back down to us. He then flew up on the garage next door and strutted around – proud as a peacock.
By the next week, I knew that my time with Pidge was coming to an end. I moved his cage out to the back deck and started to leave the door open in the mornings. For the first week he came back every night and was happy to see me. He was very friendly and quite tame. Then one evening he didn’t return, but he came back the following night.
On Sunday morning I was having breakfast on the deck when Pidge hopped out of his cage. He flew over to the table and bopped around for a few minutes in that funny bopping way that birds have. He sat and looked at me for the longest time and then flew up to the roof. A repeat of his first great flight. Then he came back down. He cooed a few times and then flew high up into the sky in ever increasing circuits. He must have circled the house a dozen times before he returned to the deck. He took one last look at me and then soared up into the sky again and was gone. I both mourned and celebrated Pidge’s departure. I missed his silly antics and his quirky personality, but he was where he was supposed to be – wild and free! I have a soft spot for pigeons to this day and whenever I think of Pidge, I hope he had a good life.
Birds in cages make me sad. They belong in the sky. I understand that some endangered species are protected by human efforts, but their entrapment in some way lessens us all. Birds have a lot to teach us about commitment, determination, hard work, a sense of fun and taking from life that which we can actually use. Perhaps one day humans will be smart enough to understand these lessons.
