of other birds

The matter of our story should be a part of the habitual furniture of our minds.
~C.S. Lewis, "On Three Ways of Writing for Children"

Breezes buffet our west walls, a reminder of winter, even though last week nearly felt like June. The Finch nest holds just fine, apparently, with wifey carrying out fluffs and resettlings over her unseen brood. I don't know if there are hatchlings yet; if so they aren't vocal, but perhaps in a week our ears will tell us whether there are children; our eyes may appraise a couple of parents on breakfast, lunch, and dinner duty. What a time of life, the days of little ones in the nest.

From what I've read, only two weeks or so after hatching the little finches fly away. That's quick. Bird life must often be quick, I suppose. In human life, it only seems as though a fortnight passes between "hatching" and "flight."

Our fine feathered children are making plans. Both have found "other birds" to spend time with, with whom to develop patterns for building their lives.

Seasons of stories before sleep with Dr. Suess, Roald Dahl, Lewis, and Tolkien appear to have only passed days ago. I'm still so grateful for pages turned, yawning (on my part, not the children's), the rhymes, the giants, the dragons, the gems. The noble characters and their relationships to others, some good-seeking, some bad. How did our favorite authors manage to exemplify what it takes to see it through, to endure, with and for one another?

They must have carried, as quoted above, such ideals for people as part of the habitual furniture of their minds.

Nothing, of course, guarantees my dear brood won't face into heartache, branches broken and nests undone, the painful toil of adult seasons. Some or all of that is a given. So the stories told us, too, sometimes.

So the pressing in, the setting forth, in tuneful jubilation and rituals of promise, bear all the more value and weight at the start of the journey.


Marianne said…
"Nothing, of course, guarantees my dear brood won’t face into heartache, branches broken and nests undone, the painful toil of adult seasons. Some or all of that is a given. So the stories told us, too, sometimes."

This feels achy on this side of parenting, while my hatchlings are still so fragile and I tend to their three meals a day. Hopefully those years that flutter quickly by somehow make it a little easier to let go when the time comes.

That aside, it is beautiful to see your brood expanding and I would love for their stories not to involve too many undone nests. I've seen enough of that with my own birdie friends. Blessings on you all!
Deanna said…
Thank you, Marianne, for your thoughts from the tender toil of mommyhood. You express so well that the little ones are fragile, in reality and in our hearts, during all those many days in the nest. They're also being strengthened, I think, in ways we can't always see (and even by the things we can't or don't prevent and wish we could've, would've). It's an amazing thing to have fledglings around getting ready to take flight. It's a beautiful heartbreak.

Of course, I tend to put things in a melancholy way. Love you, lady.
Dee Ready said…
Dear Deanna, this is a lovely posting. Thank you for it. I'd put J. K. Rowling right up there with Lewis and Tolkien and Dahl. She certainly explores the growing from childhood into maturity and the need children have to solve their own problems and to find the strength within themselves to do so. Peace.
Deanna said…
Hi, Dee. I considered listing Rowling, as well. I agree with what you mentioned about her work, and I would add she has a great sense about reality for the "characters" in reality of any age. What Harry Potter chose to do mattered exceedingly more than his circumstances; this is something I still ponder, obviously, after reading the story. But the series came along for my children when they were old enough to read it themselves, so I guess that's why I left Rowling out of this particular post.

Thanks for your thoughts.
A lovely post with a solemn, yet deeply joyful, presence, Deanna.
Deanna said…
Beth, I appreciate those words. Hope you're having some holiday enjoyment. :o)
Dee Ready said…
Dear Deanna, thank you for reading so many of my postings and leaving comments. I truly appreciate your taking the time to do this. You've given me a lovely gift. Thank you. Peace.
Laura said…
This was especially touching. Thank you.
Deanna said…
I'm glad you liked it, Laura.