Toby was resting in a nice tree in a nice neighborhood on a cool day in the Sonoran Desert winter near Phoenix. Toby was with his new mate Marsh. They had recently met as mockingbird’s do while growing and feeding after leaving their nests a few months before. Marsh had a very ordinary childhood with little stress and fear. Her parents were experienced parents with a very good nesting site that had proven to be pretty perfect and lucky for nurturing young birds.
Marsh liked hearing Toby’s story about growing up in a more chaotic situation. “Toby, can you tell me about growing up again?” she sang.
Toby enjoyed singing out his story, so he replied with his best sounding tweet. He hopped and flew over to a different nearby tree, so he wouldn’t sound too loud when he sang at full volume. Then he began his story song:
“I was born on a stormy day in the early spring. It was a lovely day at dawn when I first emerged from my shell to greet my parents, when all of a sudden a great wind blew into our home and started a great sorrow for my father and I. I didn’t know much at the time, but somehow I managed to get my toes locked around a strong stick in the nest. The wind was lifting and whipping me up, down and sideways. Everything was dark and fuzzy for a minute or two with just the sound of the awful wind.”
Toby shifted his position on his branch, looked over to see if Marsh was still on hers. He started singing again, “As the wind subsided my mother and father began frantically diving down into what I learned later was a pool, a swimming pool. My sister’s egg, she was partially hatched, had fallen from the nest into the pool. My parents tweeted their fears and tried to get the egg before it filled with water and sank with my sister to the bottom. My father dove heroically to my sister’s egg and tried to pull it up, but it slipped from his grasp when another gust of wind hit. My mother dove again and went into the water to try to grab sister from the shell, and another gust hit her pushing deep into the water.”
“Father shrieked and tried to grab her, but his toes couldn’t reach her as she went down. Moments later Mother and sister were lifeless in the pool. I was alone shivering in the nest. Father started singing a sorrowful sound, knowing mother and sister were lost.”
Toby imitated the sorrowful sound, like a long haunting note that finally faded out. “I was very afraid,” Toby started singing his story again, “and was very hungry. I started chirping hoping to get something in my belly. Hunger took over from my sorrow at that moment. A few moments later, my father landed next to the fragmented nest, gave me a beakful of food, and started mending the nest. It needed to be strong enough to keep me safe he sang.
I didn’t really know what happened at that time. I was just hatched. I knew something was missing. I knew I had lost something. Father would come to the nest to ensure I was safe and comfortable, giving me food from time to time as I chirped loudly from my hunger. When I was full and sleeping, father would fly off trying to bring back my mother and sister. I would wake to him singing short songs asking her to return. Toby needs you he sang. I need you he sang. I’m sorry about Tina he sang.
I couldn’t see out of the nest at the time, but father told me later that he could see Tina and mother in the pool, floating on the surface as the egg was down at the bottom. Father was able to remove Tina’s lifeless body and put her at rest in an empty nest nearby. He could not lift my mother. So, her body floated in the pool.
Later that day a man came out of the big cave next to the pool, called a house by people, and looked around the water. Father said the man did this often after a wind, and would clean out the leaves and flowers that had fallen in with a big stick with a kind of nest at the end. Father said the man spotted my mother, and stopped cleaning plainly horrified to find her floating there.
The man looked around, he could hear my father’s sound of sorrow mixed with hope she would just wake up. The man, moving carefully and gently, got his big stick and nestled mother’s lifeless body into the nest. He found some bags and carefully put her in one inside another before putting her in a giant container behind my tree. Father had hoped to have her in the tree next to sister, but he didn’t know how to tell the respectful man. The man knew nothing of me my father was sure, though it is possible he heard my cries when hungry. He wouldn’t know my cricket and human talking sounds were me, nor would he recognize my car sounds.”
Toby again hopped and flew to another branch after a quick peek over at Marsh, still restfully perched on her branch listening. Marsh let out a little tweet of sorrow as the story made her sad as usual at this point.
“Days went by with father tending to my every need, the man would come out to clean the pool and put things in the container, sometimes making a fire with strange smells. Father said it was some kind of cooking that people did on a grill.
I grew and grew learning to sing a little and listened to my father sing me many stories, sometimes about losing my mother and sister. But, generally we were happy and father was proud that I was growing. He sang about how handsome and strong I had become. He would sing about my dark head, lighter breast and white stripes on my wings.
Then, one day,” Toby’s song became more shrill, “another man came in yard and started cutting branches with a very loud and dangerous stick that roared as he cut. He came right at me in my tree and father told be to duck down low as he had seen these thunder sticks before. The man came and cut and cut and cut with the loud roaring stick. I ducked lower and lower in my tree, which had leaves and branches all the way to the ground, and finally the man stopped cutting and the stick was silent. My beating heart could slow down again as I was very quiet. The man was picking up sticks and putting them in a container, using another quiet stick to gather them.
Then, just as I felt safe, the man left and returned quickly with another loud round, fat stick that blew a horrific wind. I thought I would be blown away into the pool to drown. Father and I were frantic, but father tweeted for me to hold fast with my toes and stay in the middle of the remaining branches. The other, more respectful light haired man came out and was motioning for the other dark haired man to stop. The dark haired man did stop, but then stuck his stick in the pool to make big waves with the horribly load wind. The light haired man tried to stop him again, and the dark haired man finally moved away. I was safe again.
My father and I thought of the light haired man as our protector. He would occasionally come out to clean and put things in the alley container, called a community refuse container or kind of garbage can I learned, and he would listen to my father and me sing, sing a little himself, and nod when my father made his sound of sorrow.”
Toby shifted branches again and Marsh tweeted her encouragement for him to continue. Toby started singing again, “I continued to grow and grow with father providing me with everything I needed. We had great love for one another and our tremendous loss made our love even stronger. Father would sing many songs about mother, she was his great love and how they worked lovingly together. I could never get enough of his beautiful stories.
The sun would rise and set many, many times as father continued to provide me with best care. The days were getting longer, more sun and hotter. In fact, it was hotter than father had ever known. I heard that it is now called climate change causing global warming, likely why the great wind had disrupted our lives so cruelly in early spring – more violent storms were becoming the norm. My father was having a difficult time keeping me hydrated as water was difficult to share.
My father wanted me to leave the nest. I didn’t understand why. It was where I was happy and comfortable. Why would I ever want to leave? It was home. Father became a bit more urgent about the need for me to leave. He tried to show me how to fly like him. I thought he was magnificent, but how could I ever be able to fly through the air like him? He was amazing how he could go here and there with ease. He could hop, jump, flap, glide and soar with the greatest of balance and beauty. I was in awe of my father. But, I was getting thirsty and father said I would need to fly and leave my home. I was not willing.
The next day was hotter and by the end of the day I was more than thirsty. I was weakened by my thirst. I could barely move and not sing as I was dry. Father left to get some clean water. I was alone. All of a sudden the light haired man showed up again. He had been gone for days. He was moving a big green snake over to some trees. I jumped down from my tree to the side of the pool, looking into the water hoping to get some water. It was too far for me to reach from the edge, but I wanted to jump in to have some water.
The light haired man saw me, and waved his hands gently. He said (I imitated his words), “Stop handsome little bird!” I could tell he didn’t want be to jump down from the edge into the pool. I was very thirsty. Suddenly the man went to get his green snake from the other trees, and he put it near mine. There was a huge amount of water flowing out of this green thing – a hose. He waved at me gently and said to come get some. I wasn’t sure at first, but I noticed that this must be water flowing near me, and I went over as the man backed away for my comfort.
I drank and drank and drank the water. Finally I looked up and saw the man on the other side of the pool waving his arms in an unusual way. It was like he was telling me to flap my wings, to fly. He did this for several minutes and then he came over again. I was not afraid. I was feeling better, and this man had helped make that happen. He moved the hose again to make the water form a puddle. I kept drinking as I could remembering the man and my father trying to get me to fly.
The man left me there after making the water go away. I was no longer thirsty and quite satisfied. I was alone with my thoughts. My father came back and I sang to him about getting water and thinking about flying. My father was so excited that he sang and flew from tree to tree. I hopped up into my tree and started flapping my wings to move from branch to branch. I went farther and farther with my father singing me along.
Finally, I flew from my tree to another. It was amazing! My father joined me and we flew to yet another tree. And, then I understood that I was free from my nest, and we left the next morning. That’s when I found you my beautiful Marsh. I found you as we drank and ate our way around the desert gardens, singing always as we went.
I love you Marsh.”
Marsh sang, “I long you,” right back.
by Daniel J Arthur
June 26, 2024
Copyright © 2024, Daniel A Jones, All rights reserved