Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Bluebirds


Bluebirds

My Mother always looked for bluebirds.   On winter walks when I was a child she taught me to spot the red of the cardinal, the purple of the finch.  From her I learned to recognize  the blue jay, brown thrasher and dove.  Before I was three I could mimic the song of the towhee and I knew that the robin brought spring. I was schooled in the lyrical lilt of the mockingbird, taught to crack the secret code the woodpecker rapped on the oak.   She would call me down from the back of the house whenever a flock of redwing blackbirds gathered in a rolling dark sea beneath our pines.  Though unimpressed by what seemed to be just another boring murder of crows, I would do as I was told and wait until an inaudible signal was heard by the flock and, as one, they would lift into the summer air, black wings flashing blood red before my eyes.  The stuff of fairy tales. 

But the one bird that eluded her always was the one that she most longed to see.  The Bluebird.  This tricksy fellow took on the quality of myth in my house.  I knew the bluebirds from Disney movies, of course.  They sang duets with Snow White and helped dress Cinderella for the ball.  But around my Mother’s window, they remained as rare as a rose in December.  We thought we saw one once.  On a frosty morning, a flash of cerulean in the ice-covered trees; a bit of the ocean at home in the sky.  We stopped still, unblinking, finally deciding it was just a forest mirage.  My Father was commissioned to hang bluebird houses on our trees in the hopes of enticing them to our garden, but none ever moved in, something my Mother seemed to take as a personal affront to her hospitality.

When Mother died I brought home her capacious, extravagant bird feeder.  For years it sat like an avian castle outside her screened porch, easily seen from her kitchen window.  The Songwriter now keeps it filled with the tastiest seed, just as my Father used to do.  And goodness, do we have birds!  A feathered congregation forever in concert high up in our trees like a chorus of childhood friends.  But I’d long given up on the bluebird. 

So I doubted my eyes the first time I saw one.  I blinked and I stared in full disbelief.  But this year in our garden, as unimaginable as it is true, a veritable sea of blue has risen up, a July sky has drifted down, and we have scores and scores of bluebirds in residence round our house.  They splash in the birdbaths and foliate the bare branches of the poplar trees with brightest blue.  They sit on my dining room window sill and watch me drink my tea making me feel not that far removed from Snow White herself.  They are a wonder.

At first this unexpected abundance of the very riches my Mother longed for, but was denied, made me sad.  Why couldn’t she have had this in her own garden before she died?  I have turned this over and over in my head for weeks.  Then it slowly dawned on me that perhaps this could be a heavenly message sent down just for me.  A message from my Mother to me and me alone; knowing I would remember, hoping I could know.  Perhaps she wants to tell me she’s happier than she’s ever been; that her days are now full of everything she’s ever wanted.  For what could be a more joyful message?  And who could be a better messenger for me than this seldom seen fellow clad all in blue?  
I have chosen to believe this is true.
  For such are the mysteries of life.



32 comments:

  1. Oh, most definitely! My thought exactly even before I read your last paragraph. In my heart of hearts I know it is true! Peace to you from Nancy, wingsfornan

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  2. I also believe it's true... Lovely story.. I love Bluebirds as well even though they steal my basket matter.. they pull at it and pull at it till at one point my baskets are a mess and I have to buy new one and re-do.. but I love it just the same when they visit and jump about in my garden.. Much love Janice........

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  3. My darling late Mother and I love bluebirds and like your Mom my Mom in Heaven sends beauty to my heart always in the form of birds and many other precious things.
    Heaven sent indeed.
    I love your postings and your words are very touching always.

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  4. I believe you are right. What a gift!

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  5. It is a sign just like the shiny dime I found on my birthday after my Mom passed away. It's a long story about shiny dimes, but my heart nearly stopped when I found it.

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  6. My weekend treat was to see a pair of lovely bluebirds take a very spirited bath in the little birdbath I have set up in edge of the woods across from my front door. Much fluttering of wings and splashing about. Sometimes they will even jump out, sit on a limb to clean their beak and "towel off," and then come back for a second round of water. The little bath seems to be an attraction to a wide variety of birds, even including robins, doves, cardinals, and the smaller birds such as chickadees and sparrows--even in the cold winter. My father suffered a broken hip when he fell while out trying to load up his bird feeder, so if anyone is sending me messages, it has to be him. :-)

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  7. So sweet Pam. Bluebirds are country folk, don't usually come to feeders like the other birds. That they abound around your feeder is indeed rare. Had to be a gift from your Mom. Watching birds and listening to their song is my bliss.

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  8. It seems certain that your Mother has sent you messages of love through the visual of the beautiful Bluebirds. Bask in the joy of watching them live. How delightful!
    My Husband feels the same way as you do with the Red Cardinals. He believes they are a message of love from his parents.

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  9. Of course it's your mom! My dad sends roadrunner greetings and feathers in odd places to me, and I can feel his love for me instantly. The second gift is knowing you have the ability to recognize them:-)

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  10. The sweetest of stories. Your mother's lessons to you are so touching. I am thrilled the bluebirds have visited you, whoever sent them. Your parents were/are certainly special beings.

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  11. EXACTLY, what I thought!A message from MAMA above………how GORGEOUS is that?
    I do not believe I have ever seen a bluebird…….except of course in those classic Disney stories we all adored and still do!

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  12. Happy for you! Brought tears to my eyes! Angela Muller

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  13. Once , over lunch , I was once told by a lady in Coweta County that Bluebirds are a gardeners best friend and a source of great good luck. Georgia lore ?

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  14. You are right to believe this Pamela - it is a lovely tribute to your Mother.

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  15. Lovely story. A wonderful reminder of your mother.
    xo Sunday

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  16. Surely a message from your mother. I, too, have always wanted to see bluebirds but they were not to be found in town. My late father had even made me a bluebird house as well, but it was never occupied. We have lived in this house for 25 years and I had never seen bluebirds here. Recently I read about asking the Universe for a sign of your choosing. So I chose a blue feather. Ever since then - in January - I have been seeing bluebirds - at the post office, on walks, and even in my own yard. This morning I saw a bluebird fly up to a branch on a huge oak tree in our front yard that survived the devastating ice storm of last Friday. Our neighborhood looks like a war zone. We were without power for 3 days, TV and internet for 5, and some neighbors still don't have electricity. I received the bluebird's message - we survived the storm, and all is truly well.

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  17. Beautiful story..and before I read your written words, I too, knew the blue birds were a message sent from your Mother. What a lovely gift!

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  18. Well, you've done it yet again: struck a very special chord, indeed! Our mountain bluebirds have started returning to the valley. They are our neighbors for a few months every year, and we have the joy of seeing them whenever we wish, perched on wires or atop their special houses on the edge of town and up into the mountains, where they nest in woodpecker holes of aspen trees. I adore learning birdsong and calls, and the sweet, soft, gentle "few, few" of the bluebird is the pleasantest of sounds. Enjoy the lovely gift your mother sent you! I shall try to see them with fresh eyes and not take them for granted… (I would look at a cardinal--which I have never seen--with the same degree of wonder as you and the bluebirds!)

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  19. It does seem like your mother is with you spirit. Such a lovely bird and story!

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  20. I, too, have waited years (all of my childhood and most of my adult life) waiting to see a bluebird. Finally, a couple of years ago, I spotted one while walking my dogs in the neighborhood. Slowly, over time, I began to see more and more, and finally, they appeared in MY yard. I was ecstatic. I always stop and watch these brightly colored, happy little birds and think that people driving by must wonder what I have stopped to focus on so intently. I am sure there is a smile on my face and wonderment in my eyes for they always captivate me.
    Thank you for sharing your memories.

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  21. Yes this is one of the many mysteries of our life here on earth,
    I so enjoy feeding my cardinals who stayed with me all winter and a few blue jays
    I am a mini bird watcher

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  22. Pamela, this is a lovely story about the elusive bluebirds and your mom, and I think you are right; your mom is happy you are enjoying these visitors and your bluebirds may be a message from her. If I had bluebirds visiting I would put up some bluebird houses; they need help in finding nesting spots.

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  23. Oh how I love reading your lovely stories. I get so excited when I get a notification in my email that another has arrived. I bought your book, and enjoy having it on my Mother's cedar chest (now my cedar chest). It looks lovely there, and the stories are warm like her memory. The story today, about the bluebirds, particularly the last paragraph made me cry just a little. You see, I remember, when my own Mother was in her very last days with her fight with cancer, I told her that she must send me a sign of some kind...some beautiful thing so that I would know she was ok, and hers was the cardinal. I'v seen her stand in her window many a winter day, coffee cup in hand, watching the redbirds. They always made her smile and I often wondered where her thoughts would go while watching them. Thank you for your stories...

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  24. What a wonder-full story. I, too, would see it as a gift from your mother. What a blessing.

    (I am also fond of bluebirds. I never saw them growing up (maybe I wasn't looking) but started seeing them when I moved to California. When I moved from there to Oregon, I was saddest about leaving them. But then they found me! A pair of them visited me every day. When I moved to Michigan, it took a while for them to find me, but then they did. They always always make me smile and remind me of happiness.)

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  25. My late father proudly wore his navy blue airforce uniform during WW2. As a tail gunner, he used to say he missed the company of the crew in the main body of the large Liberator from whom he was isolated, facing out and shut in at the rear of the plane. He collected many airforce books after the war and to him WW2 seemed like yesterday, particularly as dementia took hold. In the week after he passed away last year, a large flock of dark blue house swallows descended on the roof of my house. Both my husband and I have never seen them in this area where we live . As we sat on chairs at the front veranda they flew in and around the fence posts and performed aeronautical acrobatics out the front of the house for 20 minutes. We watched in amazement as they then flew away together off into the distance. I would like to feel that it was a message from Dad, particularly as it has not happened since, a way of telling us that he is truly happy where he is . I believe your blue bird visits are a message from your mother, and your story here bought back lovely memories of that day with the house swallows.

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  26. I received an affirmation from my mother following her passing. Her favorite bird was the Cardinal and one presented to me in direct response to a little prayer I offered. Since that time, many years ago, they seem to always find my feeder and nest nearby. I'm so glad you feel it.

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  27. Of course it was a message. Birds are akin to angels and these bluebirds are your mother's angelic messengers.

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  28. Today is the first time I am reading this. Five days ago I returned to the area to visit Mother. It is my first Atlanta Spring in 37 years. I cannot tell you the sensations I'm getting from seeing the explosions of color in all the flowers that bloom here this time of year. Daddy was a prolific gardener. He left us for eternal realms 4 years ago. In his life here, he planted and tended thousands and thousands of plants. His favorite were the Irises. Scores of them, all different colors and varieties. When I pulled into the driveway, many, many iris stalks were showing their blossoms. Most of them were purple. "I don't understand it," Mother said. "They are usually all different colors. I've never seen so many purple ones." I know. I understand. My Daddy knew...my favorite color is purple. I believe he planned with Providence to sprout the purple blossoms just for me. This is what I choose to believe.

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I love to read your comments! Each and every one! Though I'm always reading your comments, I may not respond in the comment section. If you want to write me directly, you may do so at pamela@pamelaterry.net. Thank you for reading!