Lost Among Birds
A Short Story by Nick Ortiz
My name’s Arnau. I’m what you call an “odd one.” My life’s pretty much a blur. I remember being good at math in school and having a friend for about a couple of years. Somewhere along the line I equated being good at math to pursuing a Bachelor’s in Mathematics. Four years later, I’m working as a mathematician at an aeronautics company. I didn’t think much about it. Looking back now, that was the problem. Like most people, I just accepted what I was doing.
One day, my spirit had had enough. I just broke down. I felt this indescribable emotional torment that cannot be cured by taking a few pills. I couldn’t work and I could barely sleep. I took a leave of absence to see what was wrong. I felt lost and alone.
I drifted until I stumbled upon a YouTube video about a channeler that seemed to appear randomly. One video led to another and over time, I learned the essentials of spirituality. Twenty videos later and a lot of internal cleaning up and I’m a whole different person, well…. almost.
The last couple of months have been revolutionary. I realized that being a mathematician wasn’t what I was put here on this planet to do. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean that’s your life path…I learned that the hard way. Math is not my passion. Emboldened by my spiritual guides, I went off in search of my passion. This search did not amount to much in terms of a job. I’ve been unemployed and holed up in my apartment not knowing what to do. My roommate’s been pretty understanding. I’m grateful to have her.
One morning I woke up dull and drained. I felt that my dreary routine of being lost and searching for my passion had taken its toll on my physical and mental health. We are living in a time of immense change but also of rising hope. All of us are changing and moving into higher states of compassion and consciousness. To do this means questioning everything I thought I knew and releasing the old energy that has defined me for so long. Knowing this has not made the road easy (especially for me). Rather, it just puts things in perspective.
These last couple of months have deepened my sense of confusion and loss. I am unsure what my humble role is in this immense process of change for all of humanity. All of the things I have done to calm myself seem to fall short. Nothing is enough. I ask the universe: “Am I too hard on myself? Did I do something wrong? Is there something I should be doing?” No answer.
A Trip to the Park
In the past, I used to watch the birds in my yard whose blissful existence gave me comfort. Birds do not worry about identity or what they feel they should be doing. They are who they are and do what they do. They are content to just be. It is this feeling of being content with being that has always eluded me and is one of the reasons why I love them so much.
On this particular day, I received a strong intuition to do something radically different. This time, instead of simply watching birds outside the window of my apartment, I would lead my own personal expedition to a park nearby to see and feel birds on a closer level. Perhaps by discovering more birds, I could discover deeper truths about myself and find some answers to my life’s questions.
I went to the park with an expectation of awaiting. I looked amongst the trees as I proceeded to a central area of the park where there was a series of monkey bars and swings on top of a playground complex. I immediately saw two Rock Doves or Pigeons grooming each other near some swings. They looked enrapturing in their close care of each other. I knew this was a good omen. I see pigeons and doves as a kiss from the universe saying that she loves me unconditionally and that all will turn out all right.
Soon after, I noticed some small movements that attracted my attention to a patch of grass nearby. I saw a Song Sparrow peck at something before flying into a tree. I waited patiently for the bird to sing his beautiful song. No answer. It was only when I began to think about doing something else that the bird sang his intrepid melody. He sang with such passion and purpose that he reminded me of a crucial fact: we all have passion and purpose inside us, even if we can’t find them.
I turned to look at the pigeons only to discover that they had gone. In the past I would have been disappointed. Now, thanks to the birds, I know now not to put any expectations on nature. I learned that having a higher perspective is key to embracing nature’s miraculous surprises. With this in mind, my eyes casually turned to my right above me. I was surprised by a Eurasian Collared Dove that was looking right at me with his bright red eyes. That didn’t take long! I knew it was this species based on the characteristic black stripe on her neck that stood out from her greyish-brown feathers. Our mutual gaze lasted for a few seconds before the dove flew into a bunch of trees far from where I was. Something pushed me to follow her.
Into the Forest
I walked under the trees that produced a dark shadow on the forest floor below. I’m not sure how long I meandered but I could tell that this was a deep forest; a forest so deep that I had no idea that a forest like this was so close to the park. I did not think about how lost I was, only about the surprises nature might have in store for me. The first surprise in this forest came in the form of a small Ovenbird that I saw searching for food on the forest floor. I could tell it was this cute bird because of the olive-green feathers, the dark streaks on the breast, and orange-brown crown. I watched the Ovenbird carefully for a minute. The bird’s incessant search reminded me of my own passion. Upon seeing me, the bird flew off into the dense canopy. I began to walk away when I heard the Ovenbird’s characteristic teacher-teacher-teacher song. It was not long before I saw some rustling in some bushes near me, as if the Ovenbird’s call had summoned them.
The first to emerge from the bushes was what I thought was a Grey-Cheeked Thrush. I thought it was this species due to the bird’s spotted breast and the dull olive-brown plumage. It kind of makes you wonder why this bird is called the Grey-Cheeked Thrush in the first place. I guessed the reason when I saw how the bird’s plumage looked grey in the shadows of the forest. The bird looked around and did a song that had more jazz and rhythm than the Grey-Cheeked Thrush. It was then that I realized that this bird was not a Grey-Cheeked Thrush but its relative, Swainson’s Thrush. The two look so similar that the songs between them are one of the only ways to tell them apart. I thought it was so cool how two birds could look so similar yet be so different. I thought to myself, “One should not take similarities for granted and to embrace the small diversities inside all of us.”
As if to respond to its relative, I heard an actual Grey-Cheeked Thrush far off in another part of the forest. For a whole minute I heard a duet of the Swainson’s Thrush and the Grey-Cheeked Thrush with the song of the latter sounding like melodic begging mixed with a rhythm you could dance to. I felt with my heart that the song was imploring me to enjoy the moment instead of searching for deeper meaning.
I continued to watch the bushes to see what else would jump out to join the Swainson’s Thrush on the forest floor. I saw two Carolina Wrens emerge with caterpillars in their mouths and three Blue-Gray Gnatcatchers fly out to catch flushed insects in midair. Seeing these small birds do their thing reminded me of the dedication they have towards being who they are. It’s great to help others but you also have to show that same love to yourself.
The Chorus
While the Swainson’s Thrush continued to peck at the ground, I noticed an inquisitive Tufted Titmouse look at the brush with a wary eye. The bird suddenly began to emit an agitated call that spread through the area like a siren. A Carolina Wren flew beside the Tufted Titmouse and began to make a pish-pish-pish sound in alarm. Their alarm was answered by other titmice and wrens in the area who wanted to ensure that other birds knew that there was a predator nearby (at least that was my impression). These birds look out for each other, even if they’re from different species. Sure enough, after more than three minutes of incessant alarm, I saw a Coral Snake slither out from beneath a bush to find another habitat further north. I noticed that all this commotion scared away the Swainson’s Thrush I was observing. At this point, I forgot about the Eurasian Collared Dove I had been following and decided to follow the songs of the Grey-Cheeked Thrushes deeper into the forest.
As I ventured further in, the Grey-Cheeked Thrushes were joined by a countless number of other bird species in a lively chorus of forest life. In this chorus, I could make out the songs of not only the Grey-Cheeked Thrush but also Blue Jays, Northern Cardinals, Ovenbirds, Carolina Wrens, Tufted Titmice, House Finches, and Carolina Chickadees. The chorus seemed to me to be a loud whisper of nature’s consciousness where all is love, all is light, and all is inherently perfect. Realizing this brought tears to my eyes because hearing this beauty without means that the same beauty lies within. I looked above me to find four Laughing Gulls flying as if in a hurry. I could tell because of their black heads and black wing tips. While many people see the “laughing” of these gulls as annoying, I always saw them as encouragement. Gulls invite you to soar to higher levels of imagination and every call they make is an invitation to do just that.
Rest, Perspective, and Dedication
I looked to my right to see a Red-Tailed Hawk perched on a branch. I then noticed a smaller hawk just above me on another branch that I recognized as a Red-Shouldered Hawk. The two raptors looked peaceful roosting almost side by side. These hawks remind me of how important perspective is and how there is nothing wrong with resting. Oftentimes, rest and perspective are complementary because they give your mind time to catch up with the fast rate at which your spirit is evolving. Hawks encourage us to see things from a higher perspective where all is love. The Red-Tailed Hawk saw something move in the distance and flew after it. The Red-Shouldered Hawk remained on the branch for a minute. The hawk then turned around, gave her signature high-pitched call before flying off.
I walked forward a few paces when I noticed some jumping around in some branches above me. I reached for my binoculars to search the area and saw a pair of Pine Warblers gleaning the leaves for insects. These birds always looked busy to me as they jumped from branch to branch looking for insects. Their dedication is an inspiration to me to stay focused on my own journey.
I caught sight of another bird a couple of trees away. At first glance, I thought it was a Blue Jay due to the size but, the more I looked, I noticed that something was off. The tail was longer and there was orange on the breast. I then noticed the buggish red eyes and realized that this was no jay but a Sharp-Shinned Hawk, one of the smallest raptors in North America. I wasn’t sure if she was looking around for prey or just chilling (or both). The sunlight hitting my binoculars forced me to look away before I could observe the bird any further.
I heard above me a pair of Fish Crows fly above me with their characteristic uh-uh call that distinguishes them from their relative, the American Crow. I felt as if the crows were checking up on me to see how I was doing. Even though many see crows as pests, due to their high intelligence and consciousness, I’ve always seen the crows as guardians. They look out for each other and, if you show them unconditional love, they’ll look out for you too.
Wandering
I proceeded through the forest. Out of nowhere a small, olive-greenish bird flew close to me and perched on a branch 10 feet away from me. The body shape did not resemble a warbler. I noticed the white eyebrow stripes that was definitely not characteristic of any warbler I had ever seen. I then saw the bird’s red eyes and knew that the species I was looking at was a Red-Eyed Vireo. The bird did not stay on the branch for even ten seconds before flying off. I then heard the call of an American Robin whose serenade served as an opening number for the twittering concerto of the five Chimney Swifts that soared overhead. I walked a little further to see a Grey-Cheeked Thrush investigating something on the ground. The thrush was so focused on moving dirt around that he did not seem to notice an American Robin flying close to him on the ground. I saw the robin pick up a small earthworm before flying away.
The thrush continued to look while I saw some leaves being moved around in the distance. I used my binoculars to take a closer look. At first, I could only see leaves being moved around and I had to look for a minute to see what was the cause. I noticed the reddish glow of a long-tailed bird. I looked closer to see the bird’s yellow eyes…confirming that this bird was a Brown Thrasher. I see Brown Thrashers as the mystics of the forest. If you watch them long enough, they will teach you important truths about nature relating to coexistence and inner peace.
Deeper into the Forest
I watched the bird move leaves and peck at the ground for a minute before I heard a call that I never heard in this area before. I heard the call of an Eastern Wood Peewee with his signature pee-wee! The call was an exhortation for me to journey deeper into the forest and into myself. I followed the sound deeper into the forest and endeavored to separate the sound from the magnificent serenade of the one and only Mimus polyglottus or the species better known as the Northern Mockingbird. I see mockingbirds as the birds of creativity whose ability to mimic bird songs encourages you to find and nourish your own creative talents.
I followed the call of the Eastern Wood Peewee to a giant branch of an oak tree. I saw the little bird perch where the branch meets the trunk. The bird then became invisible in the impenetrable canopy above.
I took a moment to admire the oak tree that I stumbled upon. I gazed at the myriad branches that stretched up into the forest canopy above me. I could not help but admire the rustling in the branches above wondering what kind of bird species could be up there. The first bird I saw was a Downy Woodpecker that investigated the wood as she did her cute squeaky sound. This woodpecker then coincided with another Downy Woodpecker, or so I thought. I noticed that this woodpecker was bigger but had the same black and white plumage. I realized then that this was a Hairy Woodpecker. Hairy Woodpeckers look almost identical to Downy Woodpeckers even though the two are not even closely related. The size of the body and the bill are the best ways to differentiate between the species with the Hairy Woodpecker being roughly the size of a Blue Jay with a longer bill and the Downy Woodpecker having a short, pencil-tip-sized bill and being Sparrow-sized. I saw them pecking wood together for a brief moment before each went their separate ways.
Further up in the tree I saw the zebra-striped wings and orange head of the Red-Bellied Woodpecker. I saw her inspect the wood with purpose on several parts of the oak tree for several minutes. I observed the woodpecker as she bumped into several birds high up in the canopy. I noticed a Northern Flicker land briefly on a branch above the Red-Bellied Woodpecker before flying away.
Near the Red-Bellied Woodpecker, I saw a Great Crested Flycatcher with her calm demeanor and yellow belly. She waited patiently for insects to fly by her. When she saw an insect, she quickly jumped off the branch to catch the bug in midair before perching again. I was impressed by the bird’s aerial dynamism. In another part of the tree from the Great Crested Flycatcher, I noticed a smaller flycatcher doing the same thing. I thought it was another member of the same species except that this one was duller in color and smaller. Upon closer inspection, I realized that this bird was a Least Flycatcher. This bird did not make the characteristic high-pitched call that the Great Crested Flycatcher makes (in fact, the call was much softer).
I divided my attention for what seemed like a while between the focus of the Red-Bellied Woodpecker, the aerial hunting of the Great Crested Flycatcher, and the serene presence of the Least Flycatcher. I then saw the sun shine on a part of the oak tree that illuminated the colors of the birds that were eating in between its branches. I saw an Eastern Phoebe, Yellow-Throated Vireos, Brown-Headed Nuthatches, White-Breasted Nuthatches, a Black-and-White Warbler, and a Black-Throated Green Warbler that lay at the center of the menagerie. Each bird embraced the other and stayed within their own space on the enormous arms of the mighty oak tree. They each had found their own purpose and peace in their own niche that included a common space represented by the oak tree. They stayed together for a good minute before the member(s) of each species gradually flew away to other parts of the forest with the Black-Throated Green Warbler being the last to leave.
The Pileated Woodpecker
With my binoculars, I tried to search for the Red-Bellied Woodpecker I had been following. I found her near the top of the oak’s trunk. Soon the bird came down low enough for me to see without my binoculars. I watched as the woodpecker jumped on the side of the tree trunk before suddenly flying away. I continued to move in the general direction where I was surprised to see a Pileated Woodpecker pecking at a hole. A Pileated Woodpecker is the ultimate sign of perseverance and reassurance that you’re on the right path. For me, seeing this bird was always cool but at that moment it was a blessing. The woodpecker looked at me only briefly before continuing to peck at a hole. He must have found something juicy in there because he seemed to be there for a while. I was distracted when I saw three Laughing Gulls, three American Crows, and a Lesser Black-Backed Gull race across the sky. I turned to the Pileated Woodpecker just in time to see the magnificent black and white bird brush past me. The bird was so close that I got a good look at the red crest that the bird is so famous for. I followed the bird as best as I could to another part of the forest, yet I lost sight of him.
I heard the repetitive calls of the Pileated Woodpecker to my left and headed in that direction. I did not find the woodpecker but I did find an unexpected sight. I found myself in front of a large silver boulder that shone brightly in the sunlight. That was not the most curious thing though. The curious thing was what was underneath it. Underneath this boulder was a large pile of different foods. From what I could tell, this pile contained sunflower seeds, mealworms, nuts, and the type of bird food that I see a lot of bird feeders put in their tray feeders (I can’t remember the name). I even saw some oranges and they looked fresh. Who put this here and why?! At the moment I was focused on the conflict between the three Laughing Gulls, three American Crows, and the Lesser Black-Backed Gull that I saw flying earlier. They were fighting over what remained of a few slices of bread near the assortment of bird food. All of them were roughly the same size so dominance could not be established based on that. They fought for what seemed like several minutes as each gull and crow pecked, raised their wings, and used other forms of posturing to claim the pieces and crumbs of bread that remained. When all was consumed, they flew away.
Miracle Under the Boulder
I shifted my glance back to the plethora of bird food on the ground to see three pairs of House Sparrows and two pairs of House Finches feeding. The sparrows were eating the nuts and the finches the sunflower seeds. This explains why the two species were not fighting since House Sparrows can get territorial around food sources, especially bird feeders. These two species were soon joined by others that I had only seen either online, in books, or on bird feeder watch cams. I saw a male Orchard Oriole begin to eat an orange. He seemed to be enjoying it. I then saw a Yellow-Breasted Chat swoop down and eat some mealworms that were scattered in the mix. A pair of Mourning Doves then flew down and began eating the nuts alongside the House Sparrows. A male Painted Bunting then appeared on the boulder and appeared to be taking a close look at the mix. I could tell because of the quilt-like, brightly colored appearance of the male. I always loved the fact that such a colorful bird could exist this far north. Usually, such birds are only seen in tropical rainforests. While the Painted Bunting was deciding, an Eastern Bluebird swooped down and searched for mealworms alongside the Yellow-Breasted Chat. What is interesting is that I saw this bird pull out a grasshopper that blended invisibly amongst the food. A female Northern Cardinal jumped down from the trees above into the mix to eat sunflower seeds alongside the House Finches. Encouraged by his relative, the Painted Bunting decided to follow suite and taste the mix. While it was not the white millet that usually attracts Painted Buntings to bird feeders, this Painted Bunting seemed to like it. It’s an interesting fact that Northern Cardinals and Painted Buntings are related. It was cool seeing them side by side.
I saw an Eastern Towhee land next to the House Sparrows. It was not long before a male House Sparrow with his grey head, black throat, and brown wings attacked the Towhee and scared him away. The Towhee perched on top of the boulder. I could tell the bird was an Eastern Towhee due to the distinctive characteristics of this species that includes the red eyes and black and orange plumage. After the House Sparrow scared the Towhee away, a Common Grackle arrived from behind and frightened the House Sparrows. I guess they thought it might have been a Sharp-Shinned Hawk that is known to eat small songbirds like sparrows.
The grackle was followed one by one by representatives from different species of thrushes, blackbirds, warblers, and sparrows. Led by the Eastern Towhee from the boulder and his mate, a Wood Thrush, Veery, Gray Catbird, five European Starlings, three Chipping Sparrows, a Field Sparrow, a female Brown-Headed Cowbird, a Yellow-Throated Warbler, a male Blue Grosbeak, a pair of Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks, a male American Goldfinch, and a Prairie Warbler all joined the feast.
Never had I seen so many beautiful species of birds in one place before. It was truly a miracle that was unfolding before my eyes. I had no thoughts because no thought could describe it. I struggle to describe the scene even now. The only thing I could do was be in the moment and record every single gesture of as many birds as I could. I figured that was the best way I could show my gratitude for them appearing to me. The Veery with her soft brown plumage and faded spots on her breast. The Wood Trush with her reddish feathers and dark-spotted breast (I was particularly excited to see this bird). The Gray Catbird with her unmistakable gray plumage and red tail underparts that lets out a cat-like call (hence the name) upon finishing her meal. She did not aim her call at any particular bird but at the sky as if thanking all of creation. The Chipping Sparrows and Field Sparrow looked so similar yet so distinct. It took me some time to tell them apart. What gave the Field Sparrow away was that his brown head was lighter than the chestnut cap I’m used to seeing from Chipping Sparrows. I saw the European Starlings walk through the mix picking what they wanted along the way. Their relatives, the Common Grackle and the Brown-Headed Cowbird, did the same thing in a very organized fashion. The warblers, finches, and grosbeaks stayed toward the edge and seemed more apprehensive as if a little nervous of the larger birds (or maybe that was just my impression).
I continued to admire as other birds of the forest joined in. Carolina Chickadees sounded their chick-a-dee-dee-dee before quickly descending to grab a small nut to eat in the safety of a high branch. A Northern Mockingbird came to investigate to the annoyance of the grackle and the Gray Catbird. A red Northern Cardinal (which I assume was the mate of the female) came and began to eat. A pair of House Sparrows joined in before they were scared away to another corner by the sudden arrival of two Blue Jays. They startled the two Mourning Doves who quickly got over it and resumed eating.
I kept my eyes glued to the birds who continued to eat and embrace each other under the boulder. While watching them I began to notice the sounds of the forest around them. There were many sounds from birds and other animals alike: Eastern Ground Squirrels, Grey Fox Squirrels, Eastern Wood Peewees, Northern Cardinals, Painted Buntings, Blue Jays, Red-Bellied Woodpeckers, Chipping Sparrows, Song Sparrows, and others that I could not identify but readily contributed their melody to the chorus that added a sense of divine serenity to the bird’s feast. As the birds continued to eat almost in unison, I looked at the trees around me and noticed a Pileated Woodpecker pecking at the nearest tree. I had a feeling it was the same woodpecker I had been following earlier. Could he have led me here? Or, like me, was he guided by a higher force? I did not have all the answers but I was grateful nonetheless.
One by one I saw the birds leave as the food dwindled to nothing. The sparrows, warblers, thrushes, cardinals, and even the Pileated Woodpecker flew away. I can’t remember how long I stood there in awe of what I saw. Before I knew it, the miraculous moment was gone but I strived to remember each second of it. All that was left was a few crumbs that were subsequently eaten by an American Crow that arrived late to the party.
The Cliff
Afterward, I noticed it was starting to get dark. I could tell by the amount of sunlight in the sky that it was close to sunset. Nothing around me seemed familiar. My stomach rumbled, as if to remind me that I have to eat too.
I began to look around to see where I was. I saw a clearing ahead of me in the distance guarded by two sentinel trees. I passed through and noticed that the clearing was on top of a high cliff. At the middle of the cliff stood a ridge with a lot of tall grass and reeds. At the bottom of the cliff was a sandy beach. I paused with my binoculars to see what birds I could find. I temporarily forgot how lost I was. In the tall grass, I could see movement. Emerging from the grass was a pair of Red-Winged Blackbirds. These cute birds to me represent the importance of expressing your truth and individuality. They emerged briefly before diving back in to look for food. On the beach I saw a Killdeer wandering alone with Herring Gulls and Ring-Billed Gulls patrolling the parts of the beach closest to the sea. In the distance I could see Caspian Terns and Common Terns diving for fish. I also saw a Bonaparte’s Gull fly past them. I could tell it was this species because the underwings were solid white. Seeing these species coexist reminded me of the divine serenity of nature that can only be appreciated by being still and mindful in the present moment.
I turned around and looked to the top of the tall trees of the forest. Above the trees I could see Black Vultures and Turkey Vultures soaring on the wind currents. A vulture’s effortless flight on the wind currents invites you, the observer, to go beyond any routines or feelings that have held you back. Vultures are so much more than scavengers. They are spiritual guardians that appear in the sky to invite you to sour with them to new heights of imagination and spirituality. I watched them for a couple of minutes until I saw a Mississippi Kite flying in the sky. Kites represent divine intuition and how one always has the option to go with the winds like the kite and let your heart guide you to your true passion. What struck me was the triangular shaped tail, greyish outline, and unique flight call. The kite drew the attention of a group of Fish Crows that began to mob the kite with their uh-uh call echoing through the area. After an aerial display where the kite dodged dives from crows, the kite left with the Fish Crows in pursuit. The episode brought a patch of dead trees to my attention because they really stood out among the vast green. I looked with my binoculars to see what I could find.
Bright Forest Friends
In the distance on top of one of the dead trees, I saw the unmistakable red head of one of the most famous and endangered birds of the southeast, the Red-Headed Woodpecker. What makes this bird special to me is how his red head is the perfect symbol for passion. This bird is not afraid to show off his passion for pecking wood and he does need anyone’s permission to do it. In what ways have you given away your power to others that have prevented you from pursuing your passion? In what ways have I done the same thing? This is a bird we can all learn from. He was pecking away at the top of the tree as White-Breasted and Brown-Headed Nuthatches hopped around on the trunk.
On a branch of a dead tree nearby, I saw a cute pair of Summer Tanagers. Seeing a pair of tanagers is a good sign. The color of these birds represents different things. The red male signifies vitality, transformation, and manifesting your dreams. The yellow female represents doing what you love, creativity, and optimism. I’d like to think that combining these elements will lead to a happy life. The appearance of these birds is always a good sign because these birds support those unconditionally who search for themselves in nature. This support is especially important if they can’t quite figure out how to do it. I thought it was adorable how the color scheme of the red male and yellowish/olive-green female seemed to (like many things in life) both complement and contrast each other simultaneously.
An interesting song drove me to turn to the left away from the woodpecker, tanagers, and nuthatches to a small ridge further west. On a tree that was growing there, I could see a small, dark blue bird in the distance. It looked like an Indigo Bunting. As the bird sang his song again, my original impression was confirmed. The Indigo Bunting’s bright blue color signifies the everlasting trust of intuition and divine wisdom. They are always there for you whenever you need them. All you have to do is listen to your heart. It’s as simple as the bird’s song. The woodpecker, tanagers, and nuthatches remained for some time. When they left, I monitored the terns and seagulls fly far above the waves. They mingled with Purple Martins and Northern Rough-Winged Swallows that intersected with them in the vast cerulean sky.
I saw some birds with crescent-shaped wings with white bars begin to fly. I recognized them as Common Nighthawks that start hunting around dusk. These special birds represent the end of a cycle and renewal. If, like me, you see them in your waking life, take time to pause and reflect on what cycle(s) may be ending for you and what new beginnings might be just around the corner.
Night Falls
I looked at my phone to see that it was past 6:30 p.m. I must have lost track of time again. I decided it was time to get home. I tried to use my GPS but had no success. I had no choice but to head back into the forest and retrace my steps.
The setting sun made the forest much darker but there was still enough sunlight in between the trees to find my way. As the faded sun illuminated low-lying leaves, I was able to identify birds such as a female Scarlet Tanager with her olive-green plumage and grey-brown wings, an Eastern Kingbird, and Blue-Gray Gnatcatchers searching for their dinner. The call of Blue Jays echoed through the trees as they exhorted me to continue forward. Hearing a Blue Jay call stiffens your determination in life. They get you to stand up, pay attention, and embrace your life without fear. Their calls came at the right moment.
I was finding it difficult to find my way out. The feelings of fear and worry began to percolate and compete with my sense of wonder. At one point, they reached a stalemate and I stopped in my tracks. As the last of the sun rays became dimmer and dimmer, my mind began to swing between hope and despair like a pendulum on one of those old Grandfather Clocks. I remembered the spiritual lessons I had been taught. I remembered the cries of the Blue Jays and the birds I saw today. I could feel their strength within me. I began to quiet my mind and transmute the fear in my heart into unconditional love. I became ever more present in the moment and was reminded of the truth of who I am: eternal, safe, loved, happy.
It was then that I heard the hooting of a Great-Horned Owl. Owls are the embodiment of spiritual wisdom and intuition who appear frequently to those who seek spiritual enlightenment and realization. I knew the hoots were directed at me. I followed the hoots as best as I could. The hooting was almost constant as the owl led me through the forest. After a minute, I began to hear a flock of American Crows caw hysterically. I had to discern the hooting from their caws through an increasingly dark forest. I followed the hooting and the cawing until I came across a dense brush that stood beneath a pine tree. Crows were perched on several branches of the pine as they surrounded the Great-Horned Owl that guided me. The owl was stoic as the crows kept cawing at her. As I stood looking at them, the owl turned her head slightly to look at me directly. For a brief moment, I felt an intense connection with the owl that is hard to describe. All I can say is that it was a mixture of mystery and familiarity at the same time. The owl then flew quickly to the west of me and left the crows cawing. I quickly followed her in vain as the owl disappeared into the dimly-lit forest.
I had a feeling I was supposed to keep going west so that’s what I did. I rushed as I wanted to get out of the forest before nightfall. I was convinced that the owl flew in the direction I needed to go. As I hurried, I could hear the sunset serenade of countless songbirds fade into the silence of the night. In the distance I saw the glow of an artificial light. I figured it was a lamppost at the park that usually came on after sunset. I dashed through the trees to find the lamppost shining in the distance next to the playground.
The Cuckoo Calls
I walked across the park lawn towards the playground. On the way, I passed by some bushes and some stray trees. Something told me to look up. In a branch that was illuminated enough to see, I saw what looked like a bird the size of a Blue Jay. The appearance of the bird quickly ruled out that species. In fact, I could not believe my eyes. What was perched above me was a Yellow-Billed Cuckoo. I’ve never known this species to appear in parks. I could see the yellow bill, white breast, brown upperparts, and long tail. He even gave the signature call of the species that sounds halfway between bellowing and begging. The bird flew away shortly after I saw him.
I continued onward until some rustling in some bushes startled me. I stayed still to see what would emerge. I saw a bird fly out of the bushes and perch on the tree nearest to the lamppost. I took out my binoculars as I edged closer to get a better look at the bird. I could not believe it! It was another cuckoo species! This time it was the Black-Billed Cuckoo. What struck me was the bird’s red eyes and black bill that differentiated him from his relative, the Yellow-Billed Cuckoo. This was important since both species have brown upperparts, a white breast, and a long tail. However, it was the call of the cuckoo that stood out to me. It had a vibratory feel that is hard to put into words. It was definitely a unique experience. Hearing the call of North American cuckoos gives me the strength to embrace the present moment and tap into my true self for guidance. After staring at this unexpected bird for a couple of minutes, the cuckoo flew to the east.
I figured the fun was over for today but nature had one last surprise for me. I saw a bird perched on top of the monkey bars that was a little bit bigger than a Blue Jay but much smaller than a Great-Horned Owl. The bird seemed very still and it was hard to get a good look at him because the lamppost cast a shadow over him. Suddenly, another lamppost came on nearby and shone a light on the bird. I thought the Yellow-Billed and Black-Billed Cuckoos were a surprise but this one was a shock. My eyes could not believe it as they gazed upon a Common Cuckoo!
I could tell by the brown eyes, yellow eye ring, grey feathers, barred breast, and yellow feet. This bird was far outside of his range in Eurasia and Africa. I heard of some vagrants in Alaska but never in the Eastern United States. The cuckoo looked at me discerningly and I at him. The bird then did the signature cuck-oo sound of the species that has been popularized in books and other media for centuries. There is a reason that the sound of the Common Cuckoo strikes a chord among so many people. The special vibration of this bird’s call is an invitation to spiritual awakening. It jolts your senses. It is the bird trying to tell you, “Wake up! The world is so much larger and miraculous than what you can perceive with your senses!” I understood this message as the bird did his call three times before flying above me into the night.
As I drove back home, I felt a weight lift from my heart. This experience changed me. I may have not found my passion but my journey’s just beginning. I remember everything the bird’s taught me that day from the pigeons to the Common Cuckoo. All of it was a beautiful vision of being lost among birds.
