Scintilla Prompt: What are your simplest pleasures?
I first spotted them when they peered into my kitchen window while I was doing some mundane task like cleaning the counter or putting clean dishes away.
I sensed something… different. I looked out the window into their faces. Their black eyes seemed to pierce me. To say I was thrilled to see them perched on my bird feeder is not even close to describing how I felt.
My gasp echoed against the white walls of the kitchen and skittered into the open kitchen cabinets. Once I gained composure, I stood completely still.
The birds blinked at me, silently. I blinked at them, silently.
I moved slowly with the intention to take a photo, but I had to get my camera first. One false step and… they flew away.
They started to hang around my yard regularly after that: we had communed, we had fallen in definite interest if not love.
I continued to seed my yard with cracked corn and seeds, feeding many of my neighborhood birds but primarily seeking to please them. I saw them standing on a power line. I saw them walking around my lawn, snacking. I noticed their greyness and their black polka dots.
Then I saw one of them, alone, snacking.
“Where is your friend?” I asked, hoping the bird wouldn’t feel sorrowful with my perhaps too personal inquiry.
He or she blinked at me. “Perhaps back at the nest?”
I stood perfectly still, waiting for the bird to come closer. I was as statue-esque as my 5 foot 4 inch, rounder than thin body would allow me.
The bird came closer. I stood, breathing as softly as I could.
I noticed the belly that I thought was grey was actually peach as the sun set. I noticed her whole underbelly was a tranquil peach rather than a drab grey. Her tail was flecked with black. Here eyes were still piercing as she slowly snacked and got closer to me.
A green-blue Saturn Vue drove to my curb. I knew it held my son, Samuel, inside. I knew it was more than likely Samuel would come upon this scene with a tremendous amount of ten-year-old vigor. I prepared myself for separation from this feathered conversation.
I smiled at Samuel who raced by me, scaring the bird, and not even thinking it was a strange thing for Mommy to do, stand in the front yard, transfixed by a winged friend.
Emma, my fourteen-year-old daughter says, “Oh, yeah, my Mom is one of those crazy bird ladies.”
I can’t help myself. It is a delight to come to know my neighborhood birds. Once when I was completely alone and crying late at night with the window open, my most compassionate companion was a mockingbird who sang with me as I cried. Ever since then I have always honored my neighborhood birds.
I am as grateful for their presence than I am for some of my other neighbors presence, actually!
Simple pleasures… endless curiosity and fascination. My bird friends.
Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She teaches a teleclass/ecourse "Discover the Power of Writing & Telling Engaging, Enlightening Stories" which begins again April 12, 2012. Find details by clicking this link.
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