Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Tweet-Tweet discussion

What happened to Tweet-Tweet?

Last time I saw her, she had made the mark on the branch of the tree that she was eying for her nest in the tree. She had visited everyday for the week. Each day, she jumped from barren branch to barren branch. Jumping and grasping for the weight bearing and agility of the branches about it. She averages the leaf density to come and the depth of shade that they will provide for her coming load.

I told the children to watch Tweet tweet. There she is studying, everyday. She's planning and counting and calculating each day, which will be the best place to place her family. The beauty of her song kept us looking at her. It looked as if she was just doing a daily romp, here and there. Months of preparation and speculating made her a savvy consumer of each tree’s produce. Some trees she went to for the bountiful affids and worms that gave her sustenance in the process. Some trees were in the finals of consideration for where to construct her nest. She made it look easy. She came at different points of the day. She greeted her observers with a brief, but polite nod of the head and a song, if prompted to consider them worthy of her greater time and attention.

Some observers had left seeds or crumbs for her. Some had mentioned a considerate remark about her beauty or her resourcefulness. Each of these considerations were paid back with a melody, chosen specifically for the occasion. She wiped her brow with her wing to tell me that she was exerting energy, even if her prowess made it look like she hardly expended any energy at all. This is no game, she insisted, when I looked at her, firmly.

You look like you are having such a good time, I had to tell her. It isn't all drudgery, she returned, with winsomeness. I like knowing that when I lay my eggs they will be protected and safe. I have to leave the nest for hours, sometimes. I must know that there isn't a cat or other predator close, where they'll be eaten. I must know that most storms will be no match for my placement. I do so much homework, because there have been years that I have paid a dear price for not having used for-thought. Tears had come to her eyes as she reminisced about what caused her great concern for her eggs and nest.

Look, honey, she's talking to us and she's about to cry, I said to Kara. Yes MS. Jayne, she's crying. I wonder why she would cry, when she thinks of a storm, said Kara with a serious intensity that nearly brought tears to my eyes. I hope you will never know the futility of having built a nest that has come down in a storm, with fledglings in the nest. Natty started to cry out loud, at that word. No one else got it as quickly as she did. They died! She was screaming. This was one time that her extreme expression was felt by everyone. There were many times that Natty would scream with no reason attached, but this time we were all engaged in her cry, in our hearts, even if we couldn't give vent to the shrieks so easily as she could.

Natty had a knack for understanding the underlying meaning of things, far before any of the other children would get. Especially, when we are trying to describe a delicate subject. Her hands were holding mine to her eyes, so I could feel her tears or wipe them with her. I wasn't crying, but I could sympathize that this was the first time we had discussed such a subject and they were little children. When the entire group had composed themselves in the quiet, we touched on the reality of the loss for Tweet-Tweet. She is a bird and sometimes the ways of Mother Nature may seem cruel and harsh. Still we know that God is above all of the providence so endured and He sees the sparrows that fall to the ground and He is far more touched by the sorrows of His people, even than of the sorrow of a grieving creation.

This seemed to calm their uproar and Natty had tucked herself under my elbow with an attachment that I hadn't even noticed, until I tried to loosen her grip. She was still not fully recovered from the thought that Tweet-tweet was starting a new nest in the light of such a devastation.

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