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Story Submissions for The Ultimate Bird Lover Book
Story submissions for The Ultimate Bird Lover Book
© 2009, Leslie Goldman, Your Enchanted Gardener
Date: 6/5/2009 11:44:27 AM ( 15 y ) ... viewed 1059 times
© 2009, Leslie Goldman, Your Enchanted Gardener
9:41 AM
June 5, 09
Teri,
I edited this a bit and added a poem for considering
to THE ULTIMATE BIRD BOOK.
Please forward.
Best wishes from Leslie,
Your Enchanted Gardener
Michelle, always says hello. She is the little girl next door. Some days, when my spirit is low, I hear her calling out my name from a distance. This is so very sweet, to mean something to a little girl, who naturally acknowledges me.
Every so often, there is a miracle here in our garden that I want to show the kids next door. I tell Nuni, Michelle's mom. She brings Michelle and her little brother Daniel over. Last year, Nuni gave me a real gift. She was the first to see the Hummingbird nest on her side of the driveway we share.
The nest was in the orange tree, the tree that consistently gives us the sweetest of fruit
every Christmas time. This gift, the sight of a mother hummingbird nesting,
was an even more special and rare joy.
The Mother Hummingbird was extremely trusting. We have a number of cats. They could have jumped or climbed up the tree and disturbed the nest. Mother Hummingbird build the nest right at eye level. Every couple of days I was able to go out with my camera
and record the growth of baby hummingbirds.
Our climate here in San Diego is pretty dry. We have some very wet days. One wet winter day, mother hummingbird sat with droplets of water over her head and on her feathers. She did not move. She wanted to protect her two little eggs. I was wearing layers and had my umbrella. I watched closely. Mother hummingbird did not blink. I was within a foot or less. I took photos. I was very touched by her mother love. Other days, I would approach the nest and momma was gone. I would just see the two little eggs. Suddenly, I would hear the flapping of wings overhead. She might be off hundreds of feet, but when I approached and she was not there, I would hear these flapping protective wings above me.
As winter turned to early spring our garden fills with color and sweet nectar. I learned to identify the humingbird sound. I became acutely aware of the delicate chirping of the happy mother overhead visiting various flowers. She could soar fifty feet in an instant.
We have many birds here on our 1/3 acre within walking distance of a 35,000 student University. The land here feels like a real Enchanted Garden, a nature preserve at times, but I can hardly say I spend enough time
in the garden. I have never been sensitive to birding or being able to identify the various kinds of bird sounds, but now I was an expert when it came to the Hummingbird sounds.
One day, two little bald heads appeared in the nest, and then day after day, the babies grew. Sometimes, both babies would be looking right at me, two twins. Not only did the furry feathered little creatures bond with each other, but they seemed to bond with me. In the early days, before their eyes opened, they were confused if it were I, or mom who approached. They would open their mouths, and hope that Mom would drop in some morsel of food.
Weeks passed. They were both big now. It was amazing how both could still fit inthat tiny nest. It was now close to Spring. Our garden was full of more and more color.
How long does it take for a hummingbird to leave the nest? I had no idea.
It seemed like they were awfully big. What gives a little bird the final push? How do they know when they can fly? One day, I was watching closely. I was too close with my camera lens. One bird took flight! Oh my God, what did I do? Did I scare the little bird?
She flew about twenty feet to the Camillia bush and landed bewildered on a leaf. She may have shocked herself, and now she just stood there as if paralyzed. Instantly, Mother Hummingbird came to the rescue. She went to check on her offspring. I was able to get a photo of mother bird in flight and baby perching on the leaf. Baby sat there for hours. She did not move. Had I caused a premature leaving of the nest? Had she gone out in fear for her little life? Had I broken trust and destroyed forever the bond of Hummingbird-Man relations? I felt mortified. For hours I came out and checked on little baby bird. She just sat there, staring at the Camilias. Maybe she was stunned to have a different point of view, and feel the sunshine. Was she old enough to forage for herself? Was she hungry? Would mother continue to feed her? Was she old enough to take care of herself?
From that day on, I kept my distance from the nest. I did not want to cause
the other bird to leave prematurely. The other bird stayed in the nest at least five or six days. Each day, I wondered when she would be leaving the nest. Did she too need a kick in the butt to leave the safe haven?
One day she too was gone, and the nest was empty. I had empty nest syndrome. I was able to get close to the nest at this point. It was an amazing artwork of tiny pieces of this and that, and very cozy. Do hummingbirds ever return to an old nest I wondered? It wasn't long after it began to disintegrate. It was about that time, that I too was ready to travel. As I prepared to leave home, I would hear the chirping, and then the fluttering overhead.
Some times, in the months that followed, a hummingbird would just seem to come close and make eye contact. if I were in the garden watering, often a hummingbird would take a little bird shower if I just held the hose steady. Trust had not been broken, but as the flowers left, I would see
less and less of these joyfilled-creatures.
Seasons passed. Now it was winter again. Amazingly, it was nesting time again. Wouldn't you know it, Mother Hummingbird, now maybe one of the babies grown, came back to our orange tree to build a new nest! What joy, what a sense of homecoming I felt! Oh my gosh, the Hummingbirds came back!
The second year, the nest was on our side facing the driveway. The nest was a bit higher, well out of range of my inquisitive camera lens. Mother Hummingbird decided to take a little more space from this voyeur Enchanted Gardener, but still there was her nest, right over my head.
© 2009, Leslie Goldman, Your Enchanted Gardener
##
ANOTHER STORY
I am submitting for
THE ULTIMATE BIRD LOVER:
Bird Bath
There was once a bird on a sunny spring morning, warm enough after the dew long dried, who came upon a cement puddle two inches deep just outside my screen door. There before my eyes, mother nature invited me to witness a most sacred ritual. The bird was delirious with a deep-seated sensual joy, as if something was being fulfilled, something so instinctual, so essential.
The bird stood to the right of its makeshift pond and there
proceeded to take a bath, first stepping into the water leg length, testing the temperature. Liking it, the bird underwent the most exuberant frenzied immersion, first splashing, circling round and round. She dipped one side, wet it good, shook it, stretched. Then she continued her ceremony on the other wing, dipping, wetting, stretching, shaking. So touched with this entire experience, the bird could not contain herself, and continued her little water water bathing dance with variations on the theme, wetting its little tail feathers, rolling around on its under belly, doing little hops, skips and jumps.
I was so delighted by this unabashed explosion of life that the artist in me began spinning a detailed account of what I wanted to write yet the affairs of the day consumed me. When I returned to the word canvas of my mind, colors were muddied and i had nothing to say. A moment to be seized was lost, a gift given, unshared. I mourned for weeks, somewhere in the back of my being. Oh for the integrity when we take time in the midst of being too busy to create, to create wholly.
On this day years later, when the richness of possibility again threatens to be lost to the tasks at hand, to the chores that must be done,to the churning wheels of commerce in my head, to the misspent energies of cares and worries that weeks from now will count for nothing, I'm remembering a bird and a bird bath, that chirps into eternity.
[ This was originally written
October 12, 1983...
© 2009, Leslie Goldman, Your Enchanted Gardener ]
Chicken Meditation
It must have started well before dawn,
for sure the mist blanketed the pre-morning
and the mother sun had not awaken.
This rooster,
it really had something to say,
and it said it, over and over for an hour
or more, and never once stopped,
except between respite,
to deliver it’s morning message.
I never heard
such a glorious display of power,
of perfect positive affirmation.
It told the whole universe where to go,
and wasn’t going to take no flack
or feathers from anyone.
by Leslie Goldman
Chickens as Teachers....
Learning to raise chickens was a workshop at
the Cultivating Food Justice Conference in San Diego
in May 09
Email from CANDACE JOHNSON,
June 15, 09
On Jun 15, 2009, at 7:32 AM, Candace Johnson wrote:
Hi Leslie,
I’ve had the opportunity to look at your photos and stories since we chatted on the phone, and as promised am getting back to you about them.
The photos are delightful. We won’t be making any decisions regarding photos until much closer to publication, but they will certainly be contenders.
While all your stories touched my heart, the one I am most likely to use is The Birdbath. It is different from anything else that has been submitted so far, and that is what I am looking for—stories that anyone can relate to, but are unique in some way. While I cannot promise it will make the final cut which is still several months away, you can feel proud that it is in the group of stories under serious consideration.
Have a great week, and thank you again for your submissions.
Sincerely,
Candace Johnson
Editor, The Ultimate Bird Lover
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