Watch the Birds

Woke early because the black crow outside my bedroom window happened to be in an argument with her suitor, this was a LOUD argument, only three meters from my ear, disturbing my quality dream of love and beautiful landscapes. Their argument finally moved away from my bedroom window, but it was too late, the day had begun.

Australia has a vast amount of crows. They are arrogant, cheeky and, for the most part, believe they rule the environment. This morning, for me at least, they certainly were manipulating my existence…

At my school, the crows have taken over. For example, attempting to teach something as basic as nouns, pronouns and verbs to a group of rambunctious Year Seven’s, is bloody hard enough, but when a large flock of black crows descend on the classroom window, squawking and performing like a pack of wild, starving dogs: the children amazed at the unusual sight of a flock of black crows outside on the window sill, disturbing the lesson, teaching, at that moment in time, literally has gone out the window.

Not long ago, around the time that grandmother passed away, my mother continued to go to her house, feed the cats, and, generally handle the business.

One particular morning, feeling the loss of her friend, a small bird began to flutter, hovering no more than a few feet before her eyes. A relationship had begun, because, from that time onward, the same little bird would arrive at the scheduled time, and hover above mum, singing, dancing and communicating.

During this time, my best friend, my mother, was not happy about anything in the world. When one’s mother passes away, the world is a different place, something in your heart is missing, and life is never the same and never will be.

Mother rang me on one of her scheduled visits because, as she told me, “I need a witness!”

It happened to be a Sunday and we arrived at the old house. Mum felt to be very nervous. She said, “I really want you to see this.”

I was not sceptical, but a little hint of doubt lingered.

We walked along the familiar walk towards the little house. Mum went about her business, feeding the old cats, etc, when, lighting a cigarette, a small bird flew down from the main tree, hovering no more than a meter away, chirping a mile a minute.

What was so cool, mum came outside at the exact second that the bird appeared; crying, tears falling down her old cheeks, she said, “I told you.”

The little winged one flew away and we left; but to see mum and the creature actually exchanging feelings of love and admiration for each other; an incredible sight to behold and see first hand, an event I’ll never forget.

Watch the birds.