Two flickers

 

I wasn't a birder, but the Professora was. I can't remember how it came up in our conversation but somewhere along the line she asked me if I liked birds and I had to say, sure, sure I did. "Do you know which ones?" she asked. I thought about it and said "gulls, sparrows? How about those?" Little did I know about birds but that never stopped her from wanting to illuminate my path towards birding. I took to it like I did everything else about us, with my two feet into it. I think I surprised her with my enthusiasm. I bought a Petersen's guide, and found a pair or two of old binoculars at a second hand. I tried my hand at it and thought it fun enough to share with my kids. I have an old photo of the three oldest kids, oldest, ha, the youngest at the time was a little over three. We were at a state park, or thought we were, a raptor zone in Idaho. I have no idea if we saw any but were out there grooving. Thanks to the Professora.

I mention all this because on the way home from my walk yesterday I heard a flicker calling out to a mate, or a friend, or whoever they call out to. I walked along and saw an older tree, one that was still without buds or the beginnings of leaves, a late bloomer in this early spring. I heard one, then, I heard another call back, somewhere else in the neighborhood. I took a bit but I spotted the first one, then, after a bit more calling, saw the second one. They were working an old branch of the tree, one on one side, one on the other. Harmonious use of labor. Two pals, lovers, what have you, just hanging out, going after pests.

It has been years since I have seen the Professora. Towards the end of our time together I found that I was getting a bit territorial. I didn't see it coming but told her I was inclined to being so. I know that along the line, especially as the situation in Boise and my kids and my ex grew more and more strained, more heated, that I gravitated towards M in ways that never thought possible. I know we were in love and love, considering our circumstances, could only take us so far. I know she considered all the angles, I know that she talked to her mom about it, that mentioned us to a pal, and that she even once, while out on an outing, said to me, in an answer to what she would call me if we found ourselves together, "I would call you my husband".

So, it wasn't hard to believe that, for a while, she was a key holder to my house and open to explore all of my possessions. My home in Port Orchard had a small back house that was great for visitors, good for handling the overflow of the home business. I gave the Professora a key to that house right off the bat. I left her hot coffee and cheesecake, notes and such there, stuff she could grab, nosh on,  if she found herself working down the hill at the local branch library. One day, around this time of year, I left her a thermos of coffee, a large slice of chocolate topped cheesecake and a pint of half and half in the little fridge in the casita. 

When I got home I found a note from her. I don't have the note here in front of me but I can remember what it said, not word by word, but good enough to make my soul smile. "When I came up to your house today I heard a flicker. I had to look around but there it was, up on your roof. Thanks for the sweet treats, they were perfect" I know, not much, right? But when I saw those flickers today I thought of M, thought of that long ago day, of that note, of our love. Those birds reminded me of one of many cool things we loved to share. Writing this I hear them now, outside, around the neighborhood. Aural ghosts to our love affair, that to me, will haunt me to the end of my life.

Thank you, M, for sharing that one great thing you loved. I know that when you rolled up to the house that day, you found so many things that you loved. That bird on the roof was a lovely connection between birding, coffee, dessert, our love notes and the idea that a life could be shared with all things in it that we love most.

Sixteen years later and I still love you the most, Empress of my Heart.

Love, Your WHMB