A Bird made me a Birder

I’m not a bird watcher, I never was.

It is not the lack of interest towards other beings, and, I must mention at this point that I’m an admirer of other beings too, but, I never really had the patience of hiding in an isolated cabin, all by myself and waiting for the bird of my choice to appear before me and then, to take its pictures.

It would never happen anyway, as I live in a city and the birds that you could find in a big city are usually pigeons, crows, and parrots. Maybe an occasional stork.

But recently, something did catch my attention, and that of a bird it was.

It was a warm evening, and I opened the window to allow some fresh air into my room. I was standing in the balcony with a cup of tea, watching the bustling street below and the day end when something caught my sight.

At first, I thought I was imagining things, but, it seemed to me that I was looking at a nest. I placed my cup on the table and picked my Nikon Aculon binocular. Upon a closer examination, I realized that it was, of course, a bird’s nest, beautifully placed atop the flat street lamp, with its intricately interwoven and intertwined design that was made up of delicate floss of plumage and a combination of leaves, straws, and twigs.

As I was admiring the hard work put by the bird to build its nest, a pigeon flew and perched itself on it. It was a pretty, snow-white pigeon.

The nest on the pole with the bird looked like a lonely watchtower and its armed guard, on a busy downtown street.

I could see that the nest was made at least a few days back and the pigeon was flying in and out of it, possibly, it had laid its eggs and was in the process of incubating it. I never saw its mate with it, perhaps it decided to be a single parent.

However, it was a happy feeling when you share your neighborhood with such gentle creatures. I began to watch it every now and then. The bird possibly had a feeling that it was being watched, but, it was least bothered about my presence.

To attract it, I kept some seeds and water on the balcony, but, it was not interested in my gifts.

Neither was it interested in the moving traffic beneath the pole. There were all sorts of commotion beneath it during the day; cars, motorcycles, people, etc., but NO, the bird was the least disturbed or scared by all this.

At times, a rudely honking heavy truck would zip by, sending shivers to my spine fearing that it would deter the bird from its incubating task. The bird would shudder too, but, it would barely move away from its perched stance.

Only the nights would be calmer. I sometimes wonder the strength and grit of the bird to remain calm even in these extreme situations.

Once an alley cat discovered its presence. It could see the bird, but, it would not have realized the presence of its eggs. The cat would sometime circle around the pole, sometimes it would sit in front of it for a very long time and looking in the sky towards the nest.

I noticed that the sight of the feline would shake the bird and it would try to scare it by making all sorts of unearthly noises, and in the process excreting near the pole and the cat. The adamant cat would pay a visit very often and then, offend the birds’ tranquility.

This happened for a couple of days, and a sweeper happened to notice it. He analyzed the situation and chased the cat until it ran for its life to the furthest neighborhood, never to be seen again.

The sweeper would place something on the pavement for the bird to eat, and it would oblige him, picking the food for dinner. This made me happy, yet, leaving me confused at the same time that the bird had chosen to ignore me.

After more than a week, I realized that the bird was no more perched on its nest. Disappointed and worried, I looked through my binoculars. I did not find it. So, I went near the pole to examine.

As I reached the pole, I could hear the sound of squabs. The pigeon had returned and was feeding it. The eggs were hatched and God, I feared the worst.

That was a joyous feeling and I felt a thud. It was the excreta and the pigeon’s favorite arsenal. I did not feel bad, but, was happy. Of course, the nest and the pole was the bird’s precinct and it only meant I had restrictions.

Maybe the bird never chose me as its friend, but, I admire that it survived the extremes of the city and has now given life to a new generation.

A few weeks later, I opened my window and out of curiosity looked at the pole. Although the nest was still present, there was no bird.

The bird had left, and had converted me to be a keen birder.