Bird Lessons. Noah Letner

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СКАЧАТЬ across the sky I sat on the balcony staring at the glass of wine in my hand. One reaches a point in the delirium of sleep deprivation where any attempt at slumber is but futile. But try I did, seeking the remedy in the grape.

      The crested, black masked Redbird is perched on the outstretched branch of the maple, the handsome bird chirps loudly with determination.

      “What are you saying little bird?”

      “I’m calling for my mate to come home. I’m a little concerned that she has yet to return,” he tweeted. I say tweeted because that’s what birds are supposed to do and not speak intelligibly in one’s mind.

      The Redbird continued calling out to the darkening sky for some time before his pretty partner finally returned home. Before retiring they swooped down to the neighbor’s feeders two floors below. Leaning over the edge of the railing I watched the male take a seed in his beak, walk over to the female and place the morsel in her beak and repeat the gesture twice more.

      “When you learn to sing you will then have the means to find your companion. I am now relieved of my duty and must retire,” said the bird as they nestled for the night.

      “Your duty? What do you mean?” I questioned, too loudly. I must remember to think and not speak.

      “It is soon time for the noisy one to take my place. I must attend to my beloved. Goodnight.”

      Duty? Take his place? Are the two birds working together against me? They’re working different shifts, to keep me awake and push me to the brink of madness.

      Planning to interrogate the malicious menace and extract a confession, I gulped two more glasses of wine while anticipating his arrival and imagining unspeakable acts of vengeance. But to my disappointment the fruit of the vine abated anger, which during the fourth glass evolved to giddy curiosity.

      The bird glided onto a branch boldly displaying the white patches on his wings. “We usually live alone or in pairs, however I have cousins who live in groups of forty or so. I am tired of being alone but could never be among so many as that.” The medium-sized gray-brown bird standing on long thin legs seemed quite confident.

      “What is this conspiracy you have with the Redbird?” I raised my voice.

      “A conspiracy would be a group of Ravens. A group of Herons is a siege. Crows are a murder. Hummingbirds are a charm. Hawks are a kettle. Jays are a party. A puddling is a group of Mallards. Owls are a parliament. A murmuration is a group of Starlings. If ever the opportunity arises, I suggest watching the remarkable Starlings.”

      “Interesting, but you did not answer the question,” I said.

      “My assignment is to serenade you with my incredible voice. My crimson comrade continues the undertaking during daylight hours. This is all in your honor and for your benefit. You may consider it a conspiracy now, but you will have a different understanding once the ultimate goal is achieved.” The bird flitted to another branch.

      “You call that racket a serenade? For my benefit? What?” I yelled. I needed to calm down and think instead of speak lest the neighbors be aroused, so I projected my thoughts. You know what I am thinking and you understand my speech. Your thoughts are in my mind, not the chirping and tweeting noises you make to keep me awake all night. I must be mad.

      The assailant flitted out of sight into the leafage and started his medley, raising his voice whenever I tried to interrupt. Forced to listen to the various songs of the bachelor bird, hoping that his seduction attracts a companion, I confess he is the greatest singer I’ve ever heard. And his repertoire is astounding. He’s just lonely. Perhaps, I should try and make peace and apologize for the attempts to drive him away and for all the curses I put on him and his ancestors. Hold on, what am I thinking? The wine has gone to my head to join the birds. He’s a menace!

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