One of my favourite memories of Jody’s and my home in Union, Ontario is our bird feeders. What joy to sit on the deck and watch the hummers hum and the finches frolic. Since moving to Belmont, I’ve missed that. But I brought two feeders with me – a big cylinder holding sunflower seeds and other yummies (sparrow, finches, red-winged blackbirds, mourning doves and associated friends) and a small cylinder holding nyjer seed (red finches and goldfinches). Two weeks ago, I set up a black shepherd’s hook stand outside my living room window and hung the feeders.
Within a day or two, I had multiple winged visitors. What ecstasy! Especially the mourning doves. They were too heavy for the big feeder but they loved rooting around in the grass for the spilled nutrition. As many as five of them at a time. Every day, I love sitting on my couch near the window and welcoming the little people. It’s like an extended family.
But then there was yesterday, and today. I was having guests for dinner last night so I took out the hose and washed off the patio, getting as much bird poop off the stones and furniture as I could. Then I refilled the sunflower feeder. During the evening, I would occasionally glance out the window at the feeders. They were empty of birdies.
This morning the same. I sat down to blog half an hour ago and nobody was home. I was sad. Missing friends. Will they ever come back? What did I do wrong? And I got thinking about the rest of my life.
What is supremely important to me is loving. Being loved is very wonderful but I have no control over what comes back to me from other human beings. Thursday was the last day of school. Five minutes before home time, all the Grade 6’s were standing on the playground with Mrs. Fournier and me. I so much wanted to hug each of them but of course it’s not my place to initiate physical contact. Kids need the room to make their own choices and at 3:25 pm, that choice could have been a little wave goodbye, or no goodbye at all. I stood.
My eyes are wet as I remember the next. At least twelve young human beings lined up to hug me. Life doesn’t get any better than that. Oh, how I wish they were my children! And in a sense they are.
I’m still sitting by the window. A few minutes ago, a lone goldfinch perched outside for a bit, and then left. And one mourning dove is meandering through the grass shoots. So someone has come back. It’s not the flurry of wings that came my way days ago, and that’s fine.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring?