By ‘Rese Bourdeau Grimes
It was one of those low-cloud, sultry heat, meandering days and I’d been hustling at work since early hours. After going to the bank for change I pulled into the local burger-in-a-bun drive-through to grab my favorite frozen drink concoction.
Although it was early for lunch, I noticed with surprise that the line was already four cars deep. Then I observed that each vehicle was driving through very slowly and the passengers inside were bouncing up and down like fishing bobbers with a catch on the line.
As soon as I was one car away from the pick-up window I realized why. A petite, smoky colored, pointy beaked little bird was lighting on every passenger-side, rear-view mirror and appeared to be hesitating in hopes of scoring a fast-food tidbit.
As I received my order and paid, sure enough, there she was flittering from my mirror to the edge of my open window – waiting. When I pulled away slowly, I saw the agile little bird repeat the ritual for the truck behind me as well. Mystery partly solved. Now I knew why the line was moving reverently slow and what drive-up drivers were watching.
The very next day I returned camera ready. I pulled into the line and when the headset-bedecked host hollered out asking for my order I boldly asked; “Is the window bird working today?” There was a brief silence at the other end followed by quick laughter. “Yes, and she seems to be getting bolder,” he replied.
I told him that I was going to try and get a photo so would wait to order and come back around again to ask questions (and get my frozen concoction, of course)! He said that would be fine and sure enough as my car rolled up, nearing the pick-up window, she was busy doing her rendition of car hopping.
One time turned out not to be enough. This little bird was almost faster than my camera eye and the kind restaurant attendants let me circle around three times until I caught a couple of good shots. By the time I returned for my drink the whole crew was abuzz with the project and excited that their bird-on-a-window was being photographed.
It turns out that this precocious and bold little feathered fowl had a nest in the hedge just adjacent to the restaurant and was first seen visiting the folks at their outdoor tables. Then during a few days of rain, when no one sat outdoors, she seemed to realize that there was food action happening as the cars passed nearby and started to land on mirrors or open windowsills to investigate.
A while later, I traveled to southern Oregon for the memorial service of my longtime friend, a chosen sister. She’s gone. A simple operation, five days of frantic tests and two additional surgeries couldn’t keep her spirit in this world. She had just started into her fifth decade – that’s supposed to be half-way through life, NOT through. There are no answers to the questions. There is only accepting and hope.
Returning to town, I found my little Prius tugging me toward the restaurant. I needed to see life. I wanted to chat with the little bird gal and tell her that a featherless human with a beautiful bird name, Robin, had gone.
The server, who remembered me and my picture project, said that the babies had taken wing, left the nest and the mom bird disappeared soon after. I felt this lump forming in my throat and just managed a thin smile in response to his “would you like your drink?” I drove off abruptly, tears started streaming down my face and then I heard it. The tiny voice of grace reminding me that this is life. All of it. Magic, uncertain and beautiful. Best lived by being fully present in each moment. Click.
