One evening, I was looking out the window of my nursery, and I saw something worth photographing. I couldn’t get a clear shot from the window, so hurriedly, I stepped out of my apartment to try again. Once outside, I quickly adjusted the camera of my tablet and started taking shots. “What are you doing?” That was my neighbour’s voice.
The voice came from her kitchen window. The window overlooked the stairs where I was standing. I knew she was in her kitchen, but I had hoped she would not see me. “Well, I’m taking pictures of that bird resting on a pipe sticking out of the building next door.”
My response caused different reactions on her face. She raised her eyebrows, gave me a quizzical look, laughed a little, and turned her attention back to the utensil she was washing at the sink. “That bird has been sleeping there for months, and you are just noticing?’ I was embarrassed by her response because I love birds. As a matter of fact, some of my poems Bird Watchers and The Lonesome Bird were prompted by my feathered friends.
Let’s just say I was briefly unaware of the happenings in my environment. Probably that’s why I didn’t notice the little birdie for that long.
Or maybe it was Shaily’s stories that rekindled my interest in birds. She has written a couple of short stories on birds that moved into the tree in her residence, in search of succor amid the lockdown and strict government directives. Yes, she has a good sense of humour. By the way, Shaily Agrawal is my blogging buddy, she lives in India.
Unlike Shaily’s birds, my bird found a home and safety on a pipe sticking out of a building. Most likely, the few trees in my neighbourhood were not safe enough for it.
This scenario resonates with the new norm we are coping with these days. Some of us have experienced unpleasant alterations to our lifestyles. Changes that are uncomfortable or beneath us. We owe it to ourselves to adjust to the present realities just as the bird has learned to survive without trees.