The Empty Nest

I like it here. Big trees. There’s the wood, I like it there as well, but I like it here. Gaps between the trees. Grass and soil and the bird bath. I like it best when they’re not here. The people. The dog. There’s a cat, sometimes, on his way elsewhere. I like him least of all. And squirrels. Bothersome squirrels.

Some gardens, people put out nuts and seeds and watch through windows while I eat. They don’t put out seeds here. And in one place, the whole roof is a window. I watch them through windows, while they eat. While they do everything in that room. I watch them eat, and I watch the dog eat, and I look for things to eat, and I watch for the cat.

They’re out now, I only look for things to eat and watch for the cat. Except then a person appears. I know this one. She only comes when they are here. Stays for one night or two nights. She comes with other ones, smaller ones, noisy ones, I stay in the trees when she is here. But she is alone. She is alone and she is moving swiftly, like me. Like a squirrel too. She is not finding food. She is bringing it. She puts some where I can see it. Plastic wrapped. Not for me. And some where I can’t see it in the cold place.

I watch her, from the big tree. She leaves the room, and she comes back. She is carrying nesting cloths. A big pile of nesting cloths. She puts them in the machine that turns and turns and froths and turns and screams as it spins and she sets it turning and she vanishes again. She is picking up the things. The dog’s things. She is collecting them and taking them and making a hoard. She takes the hoard away. Then she comes back. She is moving more things, the perches they sit on and other things too. She flings open the doors and I can hear her. She does not sing as she goes. She is flying around the space, slicking the floor and taking the dirt, scrubbing at the grimy bits. She takes away the brown prints from the dog's feet. She is sucking the mud and the hairs and the crumbs from the soft floors and the soft perches and turning over the bits of nesting and sucking them and sucking them as clean as she can make them.

I sing. I like watching her, and I like singing.

Next she moves all the perches again. She moves them back to where they were. And then she perches. She drinks from a cup and she waits for five minutes and while water falls from her eyes and the machine screams and spins and stops. She takes the nesting cloths back out. They are wet like spring time rain. She drapes them over plastic branches so the air can dry them.

Now she comes outside and I watch her not through windows. She walks to the shed where I got trapped once. I do not follow. I think she is trapped too. She is there for some time. Then she comes out and has a brush and a pot and she brushes spider webs and dirt from the pot. I wonder if there are spiders. She has two pots. She carries them to the flat part outside the house where there is no grass. There were flowers there before. Then the dog ate them.

She vanishes again. Comes back carrying too much earth. Plastic wrapped. Not for me. I come down to the small tree in case though. She tips earth into the pots. I watch. In case. Then she vanishes. There is no food. I check. I am back in the tree before she comes back. The person puts flowers in one pot. Then she puts flowers in the other pot. She looks at the first pot a lot while she puts flowers in the second pot. She fetches water and she puts water on the flowers. She does not put water in the bird bath. She looks at the flowers and water falls from her eyes.

I am bored and hungry and I am glad when she takes her things away and shuts the door and vanishes and does not come back. It is easy to find food, and the cat does not come. When it starts to get dark, I see him passing through the longer grass and I stay out of his path.

The people come then. The normal two. They walk like its winter time and food is hard to find. They go in the house. They turn the light on and I watch them through the roof window from my tree. I like it here. They don’t see that there is food. They stare at nothing in one place and then they stare at nothing in another place. Maybe they can see something there. A dangerous thing. They seem frozen. One vanishes and comes back with nothing. They both vanish and they come back and one points at the nesting cloths hanging on the plastic branches.

They sit on the perches. I don’t know if they notice how clean they are. They sit close together. They are mates, I know that. One of them looks out of the door and sees the flowers. Then water falls from all of their eyes. People don’t usually do that around flowers. They sit a long time and I get bored and hungry again.

The cat is long gone and the dog is not with them. I go to the ground to look for food. I like it here. Big trees. Grass and soil and the bird bath. And flowers now as well.