The spring afternoon was lazy and warm

Full of late sunshine golden and beckoning.

Impulsively I slapped on my trainers

And took off with delight

For a stroll up the quiet road

Past the retirement home and the bulky farm

Where cows and horses grazed in succulent fields

Abutting marshlands further inland.

 

On my way back refreshed and relaxed

Striding comfortably

I heard a twitter from the wires flanking the road

And I glanced up.

A red-winged blackbird was perched right over my head

Watching me boldly with bright, focussed eyes.

I smiled and said, 'Hello. Isn't it a lovely afternoon?'

And it bobbed its head in clear agreement,

'It is indeed a fine time of day.'

 

So began a conversation as I strolled on

Chatting with the bird who sidled along the line

Precisely with my footsteps, flipping over the posts

To land again on the next wire, eye contact never lost.

The odd car flew past but we paid them no mind.

We were 'talking'.

For more than halfway home the bird and I chatted

Neither hurrying the other

Our eyes locked in communion.

 

When I reached the turn-off

Where I was visiting

I stopped, and the bird stopped.

I said, 'Good-bye.'

And waved a small salute.

It rose from the wire and swept back

Through the open sky

To the marsh reeds of its home.

 

At the time I never said anything to anybody.

Who would believe me?

But it was not my imagination.

It was not.

In a lifetime of wonderful moments

This was one of the most magical.

And I treasure it.

Perhaps some one person else

Reading this

Will smile a smile of quiet understanding:

'Yes. I know what you mean.'

 

Cynthia Buell Thomas, March, 2019