Birds are great. I love them. They fly. I try, but I can’t. They build their own homes. I have to hire a contractor. They let their babies live their own lives. We dread the empty nest syndrome. They only eat healthy stuff. Well, except for worms. They sing their hearts out. We don’t sing unless we think we have a good voice.
They hang out with friends. They whoop it up. They are party animals.
They mate for life. Very admirable, indeed.
They are beautiful and colorful. They don’t have to shop to find the latest fashion. They have a natural beauty.
They love to bathe. I love to see a bird taking a bath. What a hoot. Who says they are dirty birds? They live through the worst storms, hanging out in trees. And when the storm is over, they sing. I guess they know how to live in the moment.
Some birds are inspirational. The swan, for example. We celebrate the swan in ballet. Or the raven. Edgar Allen Poe quotes the humble bird. And we even name a football team after the illusive raven.
I guess the most inspiring act of all, to me, is the way the geese fly. They take turns being the lead, while the rest of the flock falls back, honking to support their leader. And when the leader gets tired, another one takes his place, and the cheering continues. That is team spirit. And they do this with beauty and grace.
I had a parakeet, my first pet, Hoopsie. She was blue and fluffy. And she was lonely. So I got another parakeet, Jake. And the day I brought Jake home, Hoopsie was elated. The two of them had a wonderful life together. I left the cage open. I knew they preferred freedom. They would fly around the house together, chirping and tweeting, but they always returned to the cage at night time. And they insisted on having the cage covered, until the morning light shined in. I guess they are just like us. They want their freedom, but they need their security.
I love birds. They are almost human. Only better.