A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.
I love birds and I have been bird watching for quite some time now. I can see some of my friends smile. Well not that kind! Maybe it was the hours that I spent in watching these winged miracles that made me take a super hiatus from my scheduled work. I have always found comfort in quiet mornings and in the gentle warble of exuberant birds. I have always been attracted by the magic of flight and the freedom of the unlimited azure sky.
These perfect little magicians, musicians and conjurers of delight have always given me that constantly desired point of entry to the magical world of nature. They appear to be ambassadors of a different world that always seems intriguing, mysterious and elusive.
It all started with the Crested Berrypicker that decided to rouse mankind followed by the Asian Koel mellifluously heralding the much awaited sunny month of April. A little trip to my backyard unveiled an entire cosmos of birds. There was a Great spotted Cuckoo joyously singing away. The Ibises seemed to admire the pseudo-rural setting of my kitchen garden and the Wrens with their jaunty tails and brazen attitude forced me to pay attention to their ringing rambling voices, before they finally decided to disappear into the dense tangles of wild roses.
But what I love the most about these lovely creatures, be it the Shikra with its rounded wings and narrow tail waiting to catch a prey or the rose-ringed parrots that cause heart breaking damage to my flowers and vegetables, is the fact that they wake me up every morning with poetry of their own.
The Pale Billed Flower pecker has got so used to my presence that it wouldn’t care less if I hung upside down from the same tree that it decides to perch on, quite imperiously. Every morning when the peacocks scream, I know its four. Who needs an alarm! I do love my birds and every time I see them, the joy is indescribable and also a teeny-weeny reminder that summer is around the corner.
Time to get going early in the morning to shed those kilos that were conveniently tucked away in winter gear. So, there I go with the birds....up, up and away, welcoming summer and another bright new day. And of course, being the incurable romantic that I am, I would love to believe that God sometimes works through birds to perform miracles.
© Jaspreet Mann