papa last summer…
Two days ago I had a dream that I saw my beloved male cardinal in the snow. Cardinals have been my spirit birds in the North Country for 35 years.
On the trip from New Mexico to Maine I heard cardinal songs every evening and morning. Listening to their symphony helped me believe that I was being welcomed home to the east.
We have been here at my little log cabin for nine days and although other dear birds have visited the feeder, no cardinals have been in sight – until last night.
At dusk I opened the door to the sound of the male’s mating call – “Oh, I cried, you are back – I love you” – my whole body/mind was thrumming with impossible joy. I kept talking and he kept singing. Tears of gratitude stung my eyes.
Over the past years I have had so many squirrels that I have had to stop feeding my cardinals on the ground. But every morning and every evening the cardinals would begin to whistle and I would run out with seed to scatter below the feeder.
Last summer I witnessed the male cardinal teaching this strategy to his young son. the little fledgling had such a high pitched voice! I have yet to see my friend in the flesh this morning, but just knowing he is here brings me to the edge of hope once again.
Blessed be the birds that bind us…
Over The Edge and Beyond: Journal of a Naturalist 