The fledgling flew from a low bush to a scraggly pine - a distance of no more than fifteen or twenty feet. Landing, he rested on a branch for several minutes. Then he flew back to the low bush. The bird repeated this loop - bush to pine to bush - over and over and over. I lost count of the number of these practice flights. Every once in a while, he would fly back to his nest, located in an outside light fixture, between the bush and the pine. An adult and two babies still sat in the nest. The pattern reminded me of my son, who at two, began to move away from me, in the house, yard, or park. Putting space between us, bit by bit, and then, suddenly, running back to me, wrapping his arms around my leg as if to make sure I was still there. Then he was off again.
Finally, the fledgling lengthened his flight - bush to pine to electrical wire. And then, the longest stretch yet - from the wire back to the low bush. Again and again and again.
I don't know how long this practice session went on; I would guess a full hour or more. I was captivated by the patience and perseverance of the bird as he moved toward independence. Over and over he went back to the task at hand; with practice, he got faster and stronger, he improved and gained confidence. He pushed past his limitations and flew.
Recently I've become a birder; created my own life list and always carry a bird book and binoculars in the car with me. I took a six week class in bird identification and in the last session, the instructor offered one final piece of advice: be still and let the birds come to you. To watch birds, it was necessary for me to stop moving, to be still and to be patient, which is not one of my personal strengths.
It always intrigues me how much I get from trying something new . . . bird watching has been no exception. Several friends and I have enjoyed time together on Saturday mornings, sipping coffee at the edge of Mill River, talking softly and watching a kingfisher perch in a tall tree, an elegant egret glide past us or hearing the song of a cardinal. I've seen a red-tail hawk claim its prey. I can be patient and wait; to be rewarded by the sight of something new - this past week, I added a glossy ibis to my list. I've become more observant and to watch birds, I need to be outside.
These are lessons that apply to my writing as well: observation, practice, going back to the task at hand can only result in my work improving. With patience and perseverance, like a fledgling, I will improve, gain confidence, and I will fly.
