The Southerner

Ah! It is my favorite time of the year again. I have so longed for the days to fly back to the south, back to my home. I love to feel the wind beneath my wings as I glide through the endless sky. Nothing can stop me. I can float or fly or freely fumble and frolic about the sky. Nothing can slow me down, and I am perfectly free. At least, that is how I feel in the fleeting moment, and who is to tell me otherwise? The exhilaration overcomes my fears, and I am the most glorious being alive. I am on a joyous journey to my favorite place. I am on my way home.

 The north is a lovely place and I enjoy my time there, but nothing is lovelier than the glorious springtime of the south. I can just imagine the crisp, warm air as it fills my beak with endless pleasures. But I must say, perhaps the most enjoyable part of this time of year is the journey to the south itself. To fly for miles and miles, noticing the different preparations being made for winter, it is all really exciting. The bird’s eye view of all the funny humans and their interestingly festive holiday celebrations makes for quite a trip. Last year I saw families putting up strange dummies or dolls in their pumpkin patches. I heard someone call it a “scarecrow,” but I can assure you those silly things don’t scare anyone, especially crows. Crows are some of the fiercest and most fearless birds alive. Oh humans are such wickedly delightful creatures. They really are such an enigma with their strange customs, but I thoroughly enjoy them nonetheless. My favorite part of the journey is observing humans, especially the little children.

 As I fly over mountains, I see small children gleefully playing in the snow. They build snowmen, have snowball fights, make snow angels, and ride sleds down slippery slopes. I often wonder what it would be like to be one of them. They look so young, innocent, and full of life. They do not have a care in the world. I wonder what it would be like to be so carefree and blissful with that of a child’s innocence. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a bird. I love the freedom to spread my wings and soar over the vast countryside. I love being able to observe all of my surroundings from the most spectacular views! But it can also be difficult and lonely. I must always be observant for other predators, and I don’t always know when my next meal will come. I sometimes fear that the winter storms will catch up to me and I will be stranded in unsafe and unsavory places. Just for one brief moment in time, I would like to know what it is like to be a small human child effortlessly skipping through life. 

I see families cutting down trees to build fires for warmth as well as to decorate their homes with Christmas trees. It would be nice to have a family. They look so happy and vibrant. There is not a care in the world when it’s the holidays. I remember when my mate and I used to migrate together. Oh, I miss her so. She was such a kindred spirit, and the way she soared across the sky… She was the most majestic bird I had ever seen. I could never fly as well as she could. She was truly a star. She had the most incredible, most beautiful, most elegant set of wings to grace the sky... I remember earlier this year, when we were flying north to escape the winter in the south... she was so gentle, so kindly, so wonderful. As we soared across the sky, we saw the little children swimming, and playing in the bright, warm sun. She always loved the little human children. She always wanted little baby birds of her own. I told her, “My love this is the year... I’m ready to be a father!” She smiled gleefully at me and proceeded to perform her amazing array of aeronautical acrobatics! She knew how much I loved when she did that. That was her way of saying thank you. But then she swooped several hundred feet below is. I thought “what a wonderful, whimsical lover I have!” But then, she swooped all the way down to the layer of trees beneath us. What happened? I quickly swooped below to see why she decided to land so unexpectedly. But as I flew down beneath the trees, I saw her lying on the muddy Forrest floor. She had been shot. I shed a tear and mourned her, but then I heard the hunters coming. “I think the one I got is over here, Bud!” Those eerily horrifying words made my feathers quake. I did not even have a minute to say goodbye to my beloved. Oh the plans we had! The nest we were soon to build together... all my dreams gone in a single instant.. crushed beneath the cold, dirt ground.

Well, I suppose the only joy left in my life now is experiencing through others as I watch them. It reminds me of her... how she so joyously and rhythmically glided through the skies of gold and gray and blue and orange... I will never forget her, and she lives on in my memories. It was her energy. She was the epitome, the total embodiment of perfect ecstasy.

I suppose that is why I still enjoy making this pilgrimage. I can absorb all of the holiday joy that I once knew. I can remember the wonderful migrations I made with my love, and how her presence always brought a mystical beauty to the skies. I know her spirit is still with me as I make this journey. I can feel her whispering in my ear that it will all be okay and one day I might know what it feels like to have a family... maybe in this lifetime or maybe in the next. But for now, I must enjoy my time soaring through the skies while absorbing the happiness of others.