Often time during the pandemic of 2020, bird watching had been a favorite pass time. While walking down the lane, those chirping sounds felt at heart. It was a pleasure to observe them- the tiny hops they made on the fence, the ticking sound of the beaks as they put the seeds in their mouth, the splashing of water from the bucket and their soothing calls on a warm afternoon — reminding me to look out of my window and not engulf myself in the machines. These tiny beings liked proximity to others. They observed us from distance, checked if we offered them food, if we welcomed them and then became our regular visitor. They were a pair of Blu Jays.
I would think they were couples, as they used to spend time together moving around, chirping on my windowpanes, splashing water on each other. While one moved from branch to branch, the other used to follow. We used to spread some seeds every-day and they came flying at the same time — the best life then was of that bird who could fly to her loved ones, and we could feel the joy! Love grew in the woods while the whole world was busy finding a cure for the deadly disease that was killing masses. These were practical and hardworking men who were least bothered of the powerful potion that can hold human souls together, strengthen them to the core and uplift them to the highest, the potion of love.
As days went by, seasons changed from summer to fall to spring. My boy used to keep special interest in them studying them on internet, finding fun facts. “Mommy, do you know Blu Jay likes acorns? Do you know Blu Jay are noisiest of the birds? Do you know Blu Jay is not actually blue? Do you know Blu Jay mimics hawks warning other birds? “Wow! someone knows so much about birds!” I used to encourage him. Just during that time, there were some sparrows or starlings who built nest in the nearby Live oak beside the walking trail, and lay eggs. Our Blu Jays used to fly around and protect the nest. Every afternoon we had a delight hearing the bird sounds.
Then one day on a spring afternoon, the sky was getting dark, while we both were playing in our study. We suddenly heard hoarse bird sounds and rushed to the window. We saw two ravens trying to attack the nest while our Blu Jays making a round. We went outside with a broomstick in order to scare away the crows. But to our disappointment, they were quite higher up in the tree. The Blue Jays were fighting, flapping their wings vigorously. The crows attacked them. Although smaller in size, they tried to bring in as much as forward propulsion to force them back. This went on for some time, and we watched their courage as they finally could make the ravens lose to the battle. I told my boy “See, this is how you fight back!”.
The next day we did not see the Blu Jays coming in the backyard, I was wondering if they took shelter elsewhere devasted by the fight with the crows. In the late afternoon, we heard a lot of bird sounds, and some sounded like the Blu Jays, guessed they were near the nest. The next few days we just heard their sounds, almost all afternoon moving from trees to trees, we waited with seeds and water, but no one really came. The fight changed things, so quickly. “The little birds must be scared to come near the house for the crows can attack them again”, I told. Once we thought the birds might have hatched the eggs and now, they were busy with the newborns. My boy asked, “They just forgot us?”, I replied “Situation makes us do unconventional things”.
It was a weekend day. There was an uncanny quietness in the air, just as if before a dreadful storm. We went out biking as our routine in the late afternoon, perhaps my little one was also bothered by the worldly complexity. Not everything I can hide from him. We saw some large birds gliding over the tall oaks. We went biking in the trail, took some time to stand beside the small stream that flowed to the canal, my boy gathered small twigs to show me how birds make their nest. As we were coming back in the golden hour, I was racing with my boy for fun and letting him win. He reached the oak earlier and I was pretending to paddle exhaustedly. He shouted, “Come here! quick. I see Blu Jay lying on the ground!”. My heart sank as I reached to see one Blu Jay lying on its chest and a long blood-stained scratch on its left wing.
We stood for a minute while our heart pounding, I slowly went near and touched to feel it is not moving anymore. I asked my boy to close his eyes as I turned it on its back. It was painful. After some time, we brought water and shovel from the garage and dug the ground two feet. A rush of thoughts came- where the other Blu Jay have been wandering without its mate, is it grieving moments for the longing togetherness, does it remember the promise of being with each other even though death is the only promise of a lifetime that gets fulfilled. Tears fell off the little red cheeks of my boy, I told him “It is alright”. As I lay the bird wrapped in a linen cloth in the ground and covered up with soil, I remembered what granny used to say: “In this world of sins, love will sometimes feel like a punishment”.
