Bird Love

The world is alive with cheerful notes, fluttering in the air. The sky is filled with flight, never still. A smile spreads over my face as I watch them all, singing proudly, intent on announcing that they’re here. Males sing hopefully, bold and brave, watching for danger as they try to attract mates. The sun peeks out over some clouds, spreading joy all around.

A bluebird lands with elaborate precision, perching on the edge of my birdbath. He knows it’s safe and clean, so he calls for his mate and chick. They all hop in and take a turn with the playful sprinkler. After they’re clean, they take flight. Off to some adventures, unknown to humankind. Then comes a finch, and she dips her beak in the water, vigilant and watchful, ready to fly off at the first sign of movement.

The birds are all right here, yet out of reach. Which brings me joy as well as grief. I wish I could follow them home, to admire their nests, yet here I am, limited to the ground. I want to have roam free, yet fences block me, feeding my frustration.

If I could only have a vast area to watch these graceful wonders and adorable jets. If only I could feel those gentle feathers. If only I could take a million pictures of all these birds.

They tilt their heads, angle their beaks, to stare back, with infinite charm. They never fail to enchant me, even those house finches, with their messy habits.

When spring comes, I will wait for all the birds to masterfully craft new nests. Then they will give life to magnificent, helpless chicks, and when the time comes, all of them will go to explore new worlds.

They call to me, yet they’re out of reach. It brings me peace and bliss, as well as anguish and sorrow. Close, yet far. I yearn to join those birds, just to admire them all. But that was never meant to be, as I was only meant to watch them from afar. Nevertheless, they still produce a warm feeling that fills my chest.

There are only two words to describe it: bird love.