I awoke from a long afternoon nap. My husband was still sleeping. The golden evening light was shining through the window, beckoning me outside. All day I had been stressed and in pain; it had not been an easy week, but somehow on those hardest days, nature calls you outside. I couldn't resist. I grabbed my phone hoping to snap a few shots of the sunset before the sun dropped behind the houses in our neighborhood. I slipped my sandals on. Neighbors were outside chatting and walking their dogs.
The humid Florida air embraced me. I smiled at its warmth. The sun was golden sitting just above the houses across the street. It illuminated the trees giving everything this serene feeling. The palm trees were a silhouette against the sky. Paradise. It was too beautiful; I had to get a closer look without bushes or trees in the way, so I stepped out onto the sidewalk leaving my pain behind and began walking down the sidewalk.
That's when I heard the bird's song, sets of chirps each completely different from the last. Chirp-chirp, cricket-cricket, whistle, dozens of different musical sounds were coming out of one little bird. I knew immediately it was a mockingbird and looked around to try to spot it.
It didn't take long. The bird was standing at the very top branch of a bare 20-foot tree singing towards the setting sun. Its gray-brown feathers glowed in the sunlight. The little bird puffed out its chest, proudly singing louder than any creature its size should be able to. This little bird could fit in the palm of my hand, and its calls were echoing down the street.
I crept closer sneaking around the bushes to get a better look. I had never had such a straight view of a mockingbird. It did not fly away or seem to care that I was there. Singing his song was the most important thing to him.
I stood there watching and listening to its beautiful song and for a moment forgot all my pain and worries. It all faded in the simplistic beauty of the moment of this bird's magnificent song. The sun dipped below the houses. The little puffy clouds became pink. I determined to watch the bird for a moment longer hoping to learn more about this wonderful bird. Why was it singing? Was it just happy the sun was going down? Was it seeking to impress a mate?
As I continued watching, across the street, 100 feet away, another mockingbird began to sing back. It sang its unique song brilliantly composed. The birds did not fly to each other, but they heard one another's songs and proudly sang on their perches. I still have a lot to learn about mockingbirds, but it was amazing seeing two mockingbirds singing out their songs to one another.
I walked the sidewalk back to my house the wind rustled through the palm branches. I returned grateful I had ventured outside despite my pain. The sunset, the mockingbird, the beauty, it was all worth it. I inhaled a new sense of peace and warmth.
