I could barely write all afternoon.
A pair of mockingbirds live near my house. I’ve seen them for months, probably ever since I moved here. Mostly I see them flying around and playing in the pines on the hill behind me.
Back outside. No little bird in the birch. The other baby still high in the tree, singing. And the mama squawking, quite hoarse she sounded, into the wind. Where was the daddy? And where is the other baby?
Now, they are all gone. The nest empty. I suppose the early fireworks down the street may have had something to do with it. Maybe not. Perhaps they will be back tomorrow. Of course I shall watch and see.
I suppose there could be a moral to this little story. It doesn't seem all that long ago that my own birds were pushed out of the nest. My adult birds now, are on their own. One bird is soaring high in the tree, chirping away, and doing fine. He's my youngest bird. My oldest bird, my daughter, is still hopping along, tripping from branch to branch, like that little bird in the birch. Both of them practically pushed themselves out of the nest; there was little prodding from this mama bird. But time and time again, I've been there when my oldest bird fell. Picked her up, dusted her off, saved her a time or two or more. I've been thinking. Perhaps that mama bird sitting in my roof knew all along where her baby was. Perhaps she was just there, on the fringes, providing moral support. My daughter has leaned on me a lot. And I've let her. Lately, however, with her troubles, she's leaned the other way. I've worried about it. That she's angry with me. That she thinks that I think she's making another mistake. She hasn't called in days.
But today, it seemed Mama Mockingbird may have taught me a lesson. It's okay to be just on the fringes and let her work out her own problems. And perhaps, baby mockingbird is beginning to realize that, and that she needs to rely on herself. I will worry, of course. But perhaps I should let it go. Just like Mama Mockingbird. And then, with any luck, maybe my mockingbird child will soar, too.
Sometimes we get signs. Messages. Enlightenment. Sometimes they are bold, other times subtle. A baby mockingbird pecking and chirping at my door...perhaps out of the ordinary and maybe, not so subtle a sign. I'll take it, and thank God for leaving it there for me.
I'm long-winded tonight. Forgive me.