Mocking bird salute

I've lived in a two story townhouse home for the past seven years and for the last five of those years, I have had a yearly visitor in the form of a Mocking Bird. For those of you who aren't familiar with this bird, here is what Wikipedia tells us:

Mockingbirds are a group of New World passerine birds from the Mimidae family. They are best known for the habit of some species mimicking the songs of other birds and the sounds of insects and amphibians, often loudly and in rapid succession. Wikipedia

Tennessee Mocking Bird
Mimus polyglottos
http://www.flickr.com/

It is an ironic sidenote that the mocking bird is the Tennessee State Bird genus Mimus polyglottos, which my home state adopted and made official on April 19, 1933. Why am I writing about mocking birds? Because these hardy little birds, if you have read the above Wiki information, are very LOUD and PERSISTENT in their yearly nesting and mating habits. These habits include finding the highest point available for them to perch and warble their little hearts out, pitching woo...loudly and persistently....to the night. And to hapless townhouse inhabitants attempting to grab a few precious hours of sleep.

I'm happy to share with you that not only do mocking birds imitate the songs of other birds, insects and amphibians, they imitate cats and dogs, machinery and musical instruments, and the occasional slamming door or rusty hinge. They trill through their repertoire with great and lusty enthusiasm, rarely pausing as they skillfully switch from bird song to cat meow to truck engine revving continuously. At times, it can be amusing listening to the sheer volume of calls they can produce. My bedroom happens to be the tallest peak of this row of townhouse units, so this is why I am the lucky recipient of the nightly serenade and mocking bird orchestra.

Again, you're probably wondering why I'm writing about this topic. For months now, I have been turning over in my mind the fact that humans and wildlife aren't that greatly different. I've written before about social masks that we all employ to get through our daily existence. In a similar manner to the mocking bird, we also adapt our speaking voice in tone, inflection, volume and emotion to communicate our thoughts and emotions to those around us. We wear different clothing, hairstyles and cosmetics to project various public images, to denote our current mood and again, to use as social camouflage and quite often, as a courtship tool.

http://www.musicalexpress.net/

The thing that always strikes me is how cheerful mocking birds are, every single night, in their pursuit of procreation. I am sure that to the mocking bird, this is not a cause for amusement. Indeed, their nightly concert is a life and death effort to continue their species. My human ears cannot help, however, finding charm in the widely varied trills, chirps, barks, cricket sounds (those are the exception to the finding charm part as they really drive me nuts) and engine noises. These small birds are quite aggressive in their display of auditory talents, finding no shame at all in adopting sounds from another species or object to further their goals. In some ways, I would liken it to a painter painting, using colors to express different emotions and messages, or a conductor standing in front of an orchestra with arms raised, wand at the ready to coax a stellar performance from all the musicians. Mocking birds simply do the same with their calls.

http://www.paintinghere.com/

Of course, when it is 3:30 am and I am still hearing incessant bird calls, cat screeches and hissing as well as various motorized noises in rapid succession, it isn't quite as charming or amusing anymore. There are many nights when I lie awake listening to the endless, noisy litany that I am suspicious my particular mocking bird is perched by my window with a calculating, crafty, borderline maniacal gleam in his beady little eyes, fully aware he is costing me a decent night of sleep.  I also wonder about the female counterpart to my serenading friend; is she sitting out there in the night, listening, brought to a feminine birdie swoon, thinking, "Oh my!  Now that is one sexy, masculine, attractive boat motor sound!  That must be the father of my future children!  I must fly to him now!"?  Even then, when these thoughts are chasing blearily through my tired mind, I do admit to a certain level of admiration for this little bird's plucky spirit.

We as human beings could take a leaf from their book as we navigate our own daily lives. Shine our emotions brightly and enthusiastically, be unafraid to show every facet and skill we possess in a lyrical manner, perhaps borrow someone else's form of expression momentarily, communicate with others with absolute enthusiasm...and most of all, find a high spot to proclaim our love widely and loudly to the masses. Wouldn't that be an interesting, entertaining courtship process?

There is no great or deep message here this time around. More a tangle of sleep deprived thoughts that have been assailing me for several months now during the nightly mocking bird salute. As annoying as my current feathered visitor can be each night, I still wind up missing the sounds as fall weather sets in. I feel a sort of kinship evolve in the months each mocking bird sets up housekeeping outside my bedroom window. From it has sprung a blog post that I'm not sure will capture readers' attention in quite the same way as other posts, but perhaps many of you will remember similar memories of your own with a mocking bird salute. And perhaps you will smile at the memories.

Free flight

I was doing an onsite visit this past week for one of my freelance writing accounts. This particular site visit was one of those borderline surreal experiences, as it was a wedding venue straight out of a fairytale. Picture a sweeping estate harkening back to the days of the Old South era, complete with winding drive, rolling hills with manicured and professionally landscaped grounds, a vineyard, various pavilions, gazebos, gracious circular drive and triple-tiered fountain, all leading to a stately manor atop the highest point of the property. It was enough to make any feminine heart sigh in delight, picturing her wedding in this lovely setting.

The day itself was what I call a soft, gray day. Most people find this type of weather a nuisance, but I love soft gray days. They are similar to snowy days in that they soften the edges of the world, dampen the sounds around us and slow the pace a wee bit. We had unseasonably warm weather for January that day, which caused winds to whip up and provide a brisk outdoor viewing of the estate. Since my job is to write glowing reviews and descriptions of this property, I walked around extensively, drinking in the wide expanse of the grounds. For some reason, I glanced skyward and spotted four hawks. I don't know if you've ever had the opportunity to watch birds gliding the winds on a blustery day, but it's something I have always enjoyed. I stood there, at the top of that highest bluff and just watched them.

They were loving the weather, their wings outstretched as they glided about, carving lazy, elegant wheeling loops across the sky. I found myself just smiling at the sight, something deep inside of me touched and brought to a very bright moment of peace. The soft gray light of day, the whipping winds tangling my hair and bringing rosy color to my cheeks, the lovely backdrop of this incredible estate....and those beautiful hawks up in the sky, playing and skating the winds for the simple joy of it all. All of these individual details combined to create one diamond sharp instant in time for me and I doubt that I shall ever forget it. For that moment, I breathed in damp, fresh air and watched a performance thrown by nature, and I simply soared along with it all.

Does this sound overly dramatic? Absurd for a grown woman to suggest it possible to step into this dance of nature and become an element of it all? I don't see it as either - this is how I view the world.  Magic does exist and I will not be convinced otherwise. To me, moments such as these are meant to be embraced with all our senses, and that's exactly what I did. It was glorious. Even the trees surrounding the estate were doing their own gentle, elegant waltz as the winds shifted them to and fro.

I stood there, living in that moment for what felt like a separate eternity. Eventually, the four hawks moved on across the sky and disappeared. I am sure they will return to that stretch of sky and take full advantage of the wind patterns, and if I'm lucky, I'll be there occasionally to witness the beauty of it all again. This one day, however, this soft gray day of mine, will never exist again. I have it in my mind's eye and I am now attempting to paint it with words for you to share. My written efforts fall quite short of accurately describing the sheer bliss of the moment I experienced, that free flight of those four hawks.

My day continued and I was pulled back into the real world of cell phones jangling, clients wanting to schedule appointments, traffic snarling its way around the city and deadlines looming. I tucked that day away in my heart because the deep, lasting sense of peace continued to radiate inside me. I feel it even now, as I write these words. The energy of it pulses inside me and I recognize that I was sent a very profound message that afternoon - I felt a divine presence embracing me with a palpable touch.

For whatever reason, I was given that incredible moment, a nod, an encouraging touch, a thundering whisper that brushed against me and said,

"Listen...be still...this is your moment...your free flight.  All things are possible."

My throat tightens now, and chills touch my arms from the memory. The message was clear in some ways, inscrutable and cryptic in others. The example of those four hawks swooping and gliding for the pure enjoyment of the experience reminds me to embrace doing what I love with equal abandon. Their eventual progress into the distant sky also reminds me that there is more to do, experience and explore.

If we're lucky, we might have a handful of these experiences in our lives. I am like most people, sometimes wondering if I'm making the right choices, wondering at the outcome of actions set into place. Witnessing this free flight in the sky scrubbed away some of those worries and concerns and lightened my heart. I will remember this lesson, this dance on the wind, and continue my own free flight into the vast expanse of the future.

And I will remember....all things are possible.