Birds of a Feather

I wake to Carl grumbling to himself as he straightens his nest. I lift a heavy eyelid, checking the sky. As I suspected, a hint of light crests the horizon.

“Squirrels… squirrels messing in my burrow again,” He mutters.

I stretch my wings, shaking off the sleep. I hop to Carl’s tree hollow and ask, “What squirrels, Carl?” He lets out a shrill shriek as his head connects with the top of his burrow.

“The squirrels! The squirrels, Eli. I go hunting in the evening and what do I come back to?! My nest, all messed about! Do you not see?”, His great, black, eyes overtake his face as he cocks his head, looking at me intently. His white and gold feathers are standing on end. No, I did not and could not see what he saw.

“Carl”, I say patiently, “We haven’t had squirrels climb our cottonwood in years. How do you know they have been there?” He shakes one of his owl pellets in my face.

“This! See?” He proclaims determinedly, pointing out a tuft of red-brown fur poking from the pellet, “They’ve been here again!”

Rather than pointing out that the fur was from an animal he’d ingested, I try a different tactic. I know too well, how the conversation can spiral out of hand.

“I do see Carl, that is rather annoying,” I say consolingly. His posture changes. He shakes his feathers, folding them back to his body, and clicks his beak.

“I know, I know…” He says staring at me, slowly backing into his burrow. He still does not trust me, though I’ve perched upon the branch next to his burrow for several nesting seasons.

“Have a good rest Carl,” I say as I take flight. I look back to see his head bobbing up and down, checking every angle around his burrow before retreating to the dark. I shake my head, knowing that dwelling too long on his condition would do neither of us good.

The farther I fly, the farther my thoughts drift from Carl. I was just beginning to think that perhaps, today would be different. But then a brown shape hurtles toward me. We collide, talons entangling as we try to stay afloat.

“You can’t keep doing this Cheryl!” I exclaim as the ground grows ever nearer. She lets out a high-pitched shriek of joy as we spiral haphazardly.

“Let GO!,” I shout panicked, the ground much too close. She releases me and we soar in opposite directions. I desperately flap my wings in an effort to make a break for it, but it’s no use.

“A good wake-up call, no?” She says cheerily, catching up to me easily. Seeing as her wings are twice as long, and much stronger than mine, neither of us is surprised by my failed escape. Rather annoyed, I pretend she’s not there.

“And how’s the old loon?” she says brashly. I try to convey my disgust for her insensitivity in the following silence.

“What?” She says, slowly looping around me. Her wings brush my back as she flies belly up, coming to rest on my other side. I enjoy the view of the farmland below and the forest receding behind me, savoring the momentary silence. An earsplitting call comes from my left.

“Will you stop that!” I say indignantly.

“Eli, what you need is a sense of adventure. Cooping up next to the creature has drained you of life,” she says lightly.

“Cheryl, I’ve asked you not to call him that.” I see my bird feeder coming into sight and I quickly lose track of the conversation. Cheryl lands lightly on the fence post next to the bird feeder, frightening any chance of a normal conversation away. I stretch my legs, then peck through the feed to find my favorite small golden kernels. I hear a rustle of feathers and look to the fence. Carl has landed neatly next to Cheryl. She’s staring at me, shocked.

“They won’t leave me be,” He says matter of fact as he perches, nearly relaxed next to Cheryl. I know better than to ask who “they” are, but seeing him calm next to Cheryl is stunning. Suddenly, we all hear a commotion in the house adjacent and take flight. Landing in a nearby tree, we watch as a dog streaks from the house, chasing a cat. A human runs out behind them alarmed, waving their arms sporadically. In their hurry to reach the bickering creatures, the human slips on the ice, hitting the ground hard and sliding several feet. After getting up and chasing the animals for several more minutes, two smaller humans have also escaped the house. They attempt to help the larger one, but only make matters worse by getting in the way. We watch the chaos silently until everyone is back inside.

“Bet they wish it was only a squirrel,” Carl says breaking the silence. He stretches his wings and takes flight. Cheryl and I look at each other bewildered. We follow suit and fly after Carl. On our way back to the cottonwood we fly in silence. Today had indeed been different. It gave me a lot to think about. I’d been trying to evade the misfits I’d surrounded myself with, but watching the humans embrace theirs was eye-opening. Perhaps, I didn’t need a flock that looked and sounded like me. Perhaps Cherly and Carl were enough.

As the cottonwood came into view I say, “Thank you for being a part of my flock, Cheryl.”

She looked at me knowingly and turned to the cottonwood to land. She let out a shriek of joy and I turned to see what she was looking at. A reddish-brown bushy tail was just disappearing into the hollow of the tree. We heard a low hiss then silence. We creep to the entrance of the burrow to peer inside. The owner of the bushy tail was indeed a squirrel. Tucked neatly under Carl’s wing, both were fast asleep.