You are my friend and companion, the source of much daily admiration and amusement. With feathers, oh so fine, that each day you spend the time working hard to keep in line.
When you peck, pull, and ruffle them or simply shake and shuffle them from beak to tail to streamline them all in place again. During all the effort, a tiny pale blue feather breaks off and floats in slow colourful spirals silently away from you.
Sometimes you watch its downward journey, head twisted forward in inquiry as if to say, “Where is that feather going to?” It’s no good staring with your beady, black eyes so pleading and beseechingly down at me.
As I have no more time to play “Chase me Charlie” with you at this moment of the day. However, I will be sure to set aside a time for you to shriek, swoop, and glide around with me, never fear. I will be the target of your undivided attention and chatty, chirpy budgie conversation later on today.
Do you know? I really admire your power with your shrill shrieking, you can gain my attention right away. There is no competing when I am trying to do my eating or have a conversation until I have allowed you to have a play. Your vocabulary is increasing, woe betide me if I ignore you, you create such a racket with your constant, chirpy chattering and name-calling.
You quickly put the pressure on, as you glide gently by, not missing me by much, just enough to fluff and part my hair. You increase your flying and your shrieking until I end up for the sake of peace and quiet having a two-way conversation with you. On my outstretched hand, you softly land, nibbling and browsing gently on my skin.
I am in awe at the gift of trust you bestow on me, without anxiety or concern, thank you.
I love the way you play with your toys, even if it involves the occasional sly and viciously planted side-ways kick.
After a reasonable time, you start another sneaky, beaky attack, “Take that, take that and that.”
At night, when you are covered up and quietly having the last word, I can have my say, your spirit is worth my admiration as it always claims my love and some of my undivided attention every day.
When I have my last goodnight peep in at you, your feathers are all gently fluffed up, head buried round deep in them, too. I am so proud to say, my friend, that you are my clever little bird.
NOTE: This is for all those who have had the privilege of befriending and loving a bird.
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