I spent most of my time staring up at the sky through the leaves of the tree where our nest was perched. It stretched out before me, blue and endless, an expanse of uncharted territory waiting to be conquered.
“Mama,” I said. “I’m ready”
“Hush, baby bird. It’s not your time yet.”
It was the same response I had received since the day I decided I was ready to fly, but mama was relentless – it wasn’t time yet.
I couldn’t understand it, all the other baby birds were flying out of our neighboring nests and they hadn’t hatched that much earlier than me. If they could do it, why couldn’t I?
“Mama,” I tried again. “I know I’m ready.”
She only chirped at me in response and flapped her wings once, a clear signal that that was the end of the conversation. I relented.
“Now sit still while I go get dinner.” she declared before flying out into the paling sky. I stared after her longingly, marveling at the soft glide of her wings against the wind and the way she rose up, up before diving down towards the ground again and disappearing in the surrounding shrubs.
Ignoring all the warnings about staying out of sight, I scooted closer to the edge of the nest. The neighborhood of trees was silently lively- leaves swaying in the breeze and all the other Mama birds close by leaving for the shrubs. Looking up at the sky, everything stilled. It called to me. Mama was wrong – it was time. If she couldn’t take my word for it, I would just have to show her.
I moved up the wall of the nest and angled my small body right over the edge. It was now or never. With my heart banging loudly in my chest, I took a deep breath, let out a feeble cry of courage and bravely launched myself over the nest, prepared to take to the open sky.
I became aware of two things at once. First, the way the wind felt on my face – which was less like a gentle caress and more like someone had taken a wind blower directly to my face. Second and more importantly: I wasn’t flying… I was falling.
The panic flooded in as I realized the sky was slipping further and further away and that instead, I was heading most certainly towards the ground. No manner of flapping helped. I chirped as loud as I could in the hope that someone would hear me and swoop in to save me from certain death. But no one heard me and I continued to fall, gracelessly.
I decided to surrender to the wind and spread my wings wide in defeat. To my surprise, I felt a shift in direction. I was moving upwards. The wind, carrying me forward so that I was drifting in the wave of its current. I instinctively pulled my wings back, only to resume my stumble downwards. Quickly figuring it out, I held my wings out to catch the wind and brought them in to change direction and descent. It wasn’t exactly flying, but I was now floating steadily downwards instead of tumbling down.
The grass came into sight and I put all the effort I could into landing gracefully. I succeeded in reaching the ground, my short legs losing balance and stumbling so that I landed on my face. Heart still beating wildly from the fall, I sat down and gathered myself to assess my surroundings. I was buried in the tall grass, unable to see anything in the distance. There didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, but I had no idea where I was or how I would find my way back. Suddenly my foolishness hit me – I was lost and far from home, all because I had convinced myself I was ready to fly. The cries came out of me then, low and quiet at first but growing louder and more insistent. I needed to get back home.
I lost track of how long I sat there, defeated and crying for Mama, before I heard the chirping coming somewhere above me. I grew still, trying to decide if I was simply hearing things. The call came again then, several birds singing in unison. I cried out louder, hoping they could hear me, heading in the general direction of their song. Suddenly they were upon me, three birds chirping urgently in concern.
Mama was one of them, and she swaddled me up in her wings, muttering “oh, my baby bird” over and over again. Once the other birds were convinced I was okay and back in safe hands, they flew off, leaving us alone. The happiness of being found begun to wear off and I realised just how much trouble I was in.
In my mind, she would have arrived at the nest to find me gone – then after the momentary panic, I would fly back in to surprise her. She would then tell me how sorry she was for not giving me a chance and agree that I was ready. Things had clearly not gone according to plan.
She let me go to look down at me and I braced myself for the anger. Instead she just blinked at me and sighed, her wings sagging as if relieved of a great weight.
“That was a silly thing to do.” she said to me, but without the anger I was expecting. “I just wanted you to wait until we were both ready. It’s not easy for me to let you go, you know.”
Stunned by this revelation, I was left speechless.
“I’m proud of you for trying baby bird. But you’ll have to let me watch over you just a little bit longer so I can prepare us both. Okay?”
I hung my head, both reprimanded and relieved. All I could do was nod in agreement.