Little Bird

High in the oak tree, amidst the twirling leaves that dance to the rhythm of the wind, Little Bird sat in her nest awaiting her mother’s return.

Every morning, as the sun awoke from her slumber and stretched her arms into the sky, Mama Bird darted off to find worms and bugs for Little Bird to eat. And Little Bird would wait.

When it seemed as if Little Bird could wait no longer, she would catch sight of her mother’s tail feathers, the brilliant blues streaked with orange and gold, and she’d begin to flutter with delight.

“Slow down,” Mama Bird would warn, as Little Bird gulped down her morning’s feast. “Don’t you want to enjoy your meal?”

“I’m starving,” Little Bird would reply.

At which point Mama Bird’s fierce black eyes narrowed as if to caution, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

As the nest began to shrink around Little Bird, her mother would drop breakfast further down the bough. At first, Little Bird took slow and deliberate steps towards her fare, but as the weather cooled and her feathers plumed, she’d artlessly bob across the branch to snatch her meal.

One cool, crisp morning, as Little Bird hustled towards a plump beetle, she lost her footing. She tumbled downwards, twisting and turning towards the ground like fall foliage.  Amid the swishing in her ears and the pounding in her breast, Little Bird heard her mother singing.

“Spread your wings,” she crooned. So Little Bird did.

Little Bird drifted to the earth and tumbled into the soft meadow below. Dazed and a bit shaken, she stayed still where she landed, focusing her eyes in order to scan her new surroundings. On all sides the grass stood indifferently, unfazed by her presence. When she looked up, Little Bird could see the branch from which she came.

Then Little Bird caught a glimpse of the familiar blue, orange and gold. Mama Bird settled in next to her and they sat silently until the sun tiptoed into the sky above.

“Your first flight was graceful. You are very brave,” Mama Bird said. “You will tell me when you want to try again. For now, let’s get some lunch.”

“Good, I’m starving,” said Little Bird.

As the leaves on their oak tree turned burnt orange, yellow and brown, Little Bird began to fly with her mother. She was awkward at first, flailing her wings in the air for just a few seconds at a time, but as her muscles grew stronger and her confidence greater, she learned how to soar to neighboring trees, swiftly and gracefully.

One brisk morning, Little Bird awoke to find her mother already out searching for food, so Little Bird settled into the nest to wait. When her tummy began to rumble, Little Bird furrowed her brow and thought for a moment.

“This is silly,” she decided, and flew to the ground to catch a worm.

With her stomach and heart full, Little Bird returned to the nest. Mama Bird flew in shortly after carrying a beetle and placed it on the branch.

“No thank you, I already ate,” said Little Bird. “I was starving.”

Mama Bird smiled.

The days flowed from one to the next. Little Bird gathered her own food and began to fly further from the tree, exploring her world. One gray afternoon, the wind forced the great tree that held their nest to teeter and bow. Little Bird could not go hunt for food, and Mama Bird found a small hole in a nearby trunk where they could take cover.  Soon, Little Bird’s tummy began to rumble.

“Stay here,” said Mama Bird, “I will get us something to eat.” And before she flew away she added, “Stay here until you see the sun again.” And off she flew.

Little Bird huddled down in the small hole. Pretty soon the rain came, then the thunder and lightening. Little Bird had never seen a storm like this before. She closed her eyes and tried to think about cheerful things, like worms and flying.

Little Bird must have slept for quite a while because when she woke she saw the sun’s rays and heard other birds fluttering around in the tree. Little Bird emerged from the trunk and looked around. Branches lay on the ground, cast there by the once raging wind. Little Bird could see the branch on which her nest once sat, but it was no longer there. Little Bird flew to the bough to wait for Mama Bird.

Little Bird sat until she could see the moon through the bare branches of the tree, but Mama Bird did not come.

Little Bird waited long after she realized that the storm had taken Mama Bird far away. Little Bird waited even though she knew Mama Bird would not return. The sun rose and set many times, but Little Bird did not move.

And then one day, Little Bird, cold, weak, and broken was awoken by a familiar sound. She listened closely and looked around. The clouds blanketed the sky and there was a strange silence in the trees. And then the rumbling sounded again and Little Bird realized it was coming from her stomach. She was, quite literally, starving.

So Little Bird made a decision. She weakly flew to the ground and found a puddle of water, taking a few sips at first and then gulping it down, until her throat felt soft again and her eyes were able to focus. As she bent down to take a final sip of water, she saw brilliant blues streaked with gold and orange, and for a brief moment Little Bird thought her mother had returned. But as she focused on the image before her, she saw the feathers weren’t quite the same.

Little Bird fluttered her tail feathers and the feathers before her fluttered too. Little Bird spread her tail feathers, and the tail feathers before her also unfolded. Slowly, Little Bird turned her head and to peek at her body. Adorning her back were blue, gold and orange feathers. They were quite beautiful, and they made Little Bird smile.

High in the oak tree, amidst the twirling leaves that dance to the rhythm of the wind, Little Bird sits in her nest and waits for Baby Bird to wake up. When she sees the tiny eyes ajar, Little Bird says, “Good morning, Baby Bird. I’m going to get us something to eat. I’ll be right back.”

Yawning and then fluttering her small wings with delight Baby Bird replies, “Oh good, I’m starving.”