Nonfiction Friday: The mockingbird

I peer at the human, my heart thunders in my chest.  I grip the round logs at the end of its branch.  It saved me.  The monster had captured me with its fangs, held me against the earth.  The human twittered, quick and loud, at the thing holding me.  She, I think, it has long hair, made my enemy let go. She picks me up and cuddles me to her breast.  I feel the pounding of her heart next to mine.  She chirps, nonsensical sounds, and runs a talon over my head and back.  She is nice. She is warm. She is safe.  The other human makes the monster return to its nest.


I gaze through the glass at my human.  She spoiled our play.  The chirper started it, dive bombing and yelling at me.  I’d been sleeping, the sun warming my back, the dirt cool against my belly.  My brother joins me and licks my ear.  I’m not in the mood to play and swat him across the nose.  I scratch at the glass. That always gets their attention…usually.  My human ignores me.


While John grabs his camera, I run my fingers over the mockingbird.  It sits in my hand. Quiet, stunned, but uninjured.  Thank goodness.  I’ve saved various birds, dragon flies, praying mantis and butterflies, over the years and discovered they are aware I am trying to protect them from my four cats.  They cling or huddle in my hands, quite trusting.  The mockingbird relaxes and chirps.  It sits in the palm of my hand and stares at me, then poses as John snaps several pictures.  We chat as it chirps and ruffles it feathers.  The bird’s talons grip my fingers tightly.  Time to let it go. It chips one last time and I raised my hand, pushing it into the air.  She or maybe a he, takes off across the yard and swoops over the laurel bushes – gone.


Yesterday I was sitting out on the patio.  A bird flits down to sit on the back of the wooden glider.  It chirps hello and a few other things, then preens a bit before taking off again.  You’re welcome!

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