Birds and Chains, Creative Essay Example

We hung a bird house on the planter hook that hangs from the garage patio post. Just a small, wood birdhouse painted white. There’s a short perch beneath the small round opening. When it was hung, I was curious if any birds would choose a home that hung so close to the walkway. Would they really be comfortable with people suddenly emerging from doors and loudly tramping beneath the little birdhouse?

It just so happened carrying groceries from the garage to the house one day, I noticed a sparrow sitting on the picnic bench in the yard, opposite where the birdhouse hung. A second sparrow sat on the birdhouse perch. The one on the perch chirped excitedly, while the one on the bench listened intently, offering an occasional chirp or two before flying off. The scene gave me pause and I chuckled as I went on into the house, sure I had just witnessed the pair’s decision to move into the house. The one on the perch was most certainly the wife, urging her husband to hurry and gather materials for the nest.

Since then I’ve watched the pair on and off. Sitting on the picnic bench yesterday, in the still of the afternoon, I first heard a faint chirping. Looking up at the small birdhouse, I realized the chirping came from within. Their chirping became louder as the mother landed on the edge of the garage roof, directly above the birdhouse. She danced around a one foot space, her partner the worm that wriggled in her beak. She wanted to feed the nestlings but didn’t want to enter the nest while I sat there. I turned away, pretending not to watch as I pondered how much alike this bird mother was to my own. Both were protective and doting. That is not to say my mother ever chewed up my food for me. But she certainly does her part to make sure I eat healthy. She taught me how to keep myself clean, how to feed myself, and she’s still teaching me what I need to know to take care of myself when I fly from the nest.

However, I’m still at home while these baby birds will leave their nest in a matter of weeks. I wonder what they think when they peek through the small round hole at us. Do these fledglings wonder why we stay with our mothers for so long, while their own mothers push them out into the world so soon?

“Mom, why are some of those walking giants smaller than the others?”

“The smaller ones are their children. They live together for many years.”

“But why do they keep their children with them for so long, when you tell me I must leave soon? Do they love their children more because they keep them close longer?”

“Come here little one,” the mother says. “Look out here to the sky. Do you see how beautiful it is? See how it goes on and on, an endless sky of blue greater in size then even the ocean beneath it? My dear, have I taught you what to eat?” The little bird nodded. “Do you know how to talk?” Again, the little bird nodded. “And do you know where birds belong?”

“Birds belong in the sky, mom,” the little bird said.

“That’s right. You know everything you need to survive and the sky waits. What kind of mother would I be if I denied you even a minute of time to explore it? Though I love you, I must let you be free to fly.” The mother and her young bird gazed out of their doorway with pity at the young prisoner of love.

The house door opens and my mother appears. “Time for dinner. I made spaghetti and garlic bread,” she says, holding open the door. I stare at the warden with bored eyes and rise slowly from the bench. “I don’t want spaghetti. Why don’t I ever get to choose what’s for dinner?” I ask as I saunter past her into the house.