Dear House Finches With The Nest Atop The Magnolia Wreath On My Front Door:
I wondered why you’ve been lingering so long.
The four babies you hatched at Easter surely took to the wild blue yonder weeks ago.
I haven’t checked the nest because I feared your fledglings might be reluctant to go; after all, there’s no place like home… not to mention that in a previous season I think I may have accidentally force-fledged babies who could fly but were still cramming themselves into the nest. They gave me quite a turn, flying out that day when I came to investigate. So little. I worried if they were really ready to make it on their own. It would be my fault if they were not…
So, Finches, I have left you to come and go as you please, without interference, and I confess that the whole reason is purely selfish: your music. I savor your beautiful song. So bright and pure…sunlight is woven through it even on the dreariest day. Your song gets under a corner of my sometimes-heavy spirit and lifts it, floods it with peace and a longing I cannot quite explain. I know the day is coming when you won’t be gracing my porch any more and then I will be bereft of these joyful little interludes… so I haven’t questioned your lingering. I’ve only treasured my extended finch fantasia with a grateful heart.
Yesterday my husband asked: “Can’t we use the front door now? Those babies are gone, right?”
Bless him for his great patience with my bird sanctuary. He is a minister, after all…
I said, “Probably. Let me go check the nest to be sure.”
Then then then.
Oh, it’s going be a while yet before we can open the door.
Now I know what you’ve been up to, my beloved Finches.