Tabatha Deans

ANGRY BIRDS  …

ANGRY BIRDS

            The birds began building the nest several months ago, having chosen a spot just above the door to the Good Doctor’s apartment. The complex is rather large, so the fact that they chose to build a nest right there definitely seemed like a good sign from the universe. With each visit the nest grew a little more, until one day it was complete, with the lady bird sitting in the new home, while the male bird kept careful watch from his perch on the railing to the stairs.

            The day finally came when soft chirping could be heard from inside the nest, obviously the two lovebirds had succeeded in hatching their eggs safely. We listened to the soft peeping, and waited patiently for the young birds to grow big enough we could see them. It seemed like only a matter of days before we saw four tiny beaks poking over the edge of the nest, begging for food and watching for their mother with tiny, shiny, black eyes. They were adorable, and so tiny, I hoped none of them would fall out of the nest and plunge to their death.

            The parent birds took good care of them, and with each visit, as the little birds grew, more of their bodies were visible over the top of the nest, and their cries for food became louder and more demanding. The parent birds flew in and out of the stairwell/hallway often, scurrying to feed the screaming little baby birds. One day it was time for the little ones to learn to fly, and the hallway became a flurry of activity as the young ones left the nest and tested their wings. There was a brief moment of concern when one of the young birds had traveled too far, and sat perched on the stair railing, holding on for dear life, too tired to complete the journey up to the nest. He recovered, because on my next visit all four baby birds were present.

            But now, instead of the tiny birds in the modest nest, the birds have reached almost the size of their parents. Now the nest was completely full of baby birds, overflowing in fact, with one perched on top of the others, balancing and trying not to fall out of the too-full nest. I imagine it would look about like strapping a 14-year-old into a car seat in the back of the car. He looked angry and uncomfortable as he stared down at me with his now full-sized beak and piercing black eyes. And his mental message was clear—I can’t wait to fly this coop for good!

August 31, 2012 - Posted by Tabatha Stewart | Uncategorized | angry birds, birds, denver, sex