I watched Mother as she sat on the back porch with her tiny
binoculars and thick field guide. She’d
sit there for hours raising the binoculars to her eyes and then slowly flipping
through the pictures to identify the creature.
I always wondered how she could find little animals that pooped everywhere
so fascinating, but every sunny day she insisted on being left out back for
hours.
“Don’t walk in and out,” she’d say when I checked on her.
“You’re scaring them away.”
I shook my head. All that time alone staring at birds
couldn’t be good for her health. She
needed to be with her family, spending time with her grandchildren, not
watching rats with wings.
Mother placed the binoculars gently on her nose and studied
the blue jay at the feeder. She never
paid that much attention to me, how I longed for her to take interest in my
life, read my field guide.
I chuckled to myself as I started supper: look at me,
jealous of Mother and the birds.
By taliesin