A couple sat at a table in Oregon Tavern Age country. The joint stood next to a creek that flowed into the ocean. The table afforded wondrous views of the creek and many, many birds: ducks, herons, egrets, ravens, ducks, eagles, hawks, ospreys, geese, ducks, hummingbirds, swallows, wrens, chickadees and more.
This tavern easily affords the best bird watching in OTA country, and what a bonus to observe such beautiful creatures when you’re drinking! In fact, people drive a considerable distance to bird watch and drink here.
The woman watched barn swallows dip and dive, soar and sink, and then said to the man, “We can’t all fly like swallows do. We have responsibilities.”
I nearly fell out of my chair when I heard this. I managed to catch a glimpse of her face as she finished the statement. She was angry.
The man said nothing.
It was one of the saddest things I’d ever heard in OTA country. The woman clearly understood the metaphor of the swallow’s flight. She’d made the association right there, drinking a bloody mary, and utterly rejected it as a model. She rejected the astonishing freedom and joy that swallows display in flight. It’s one of the happiest sights in nature I’ve ever witnessed and I could watch it for hours. I have many times.
Swallows are giddy! I’ve always wanted to emulate their flight with my life.
But it wasn’t for her. She felt she had to remain grounded and resolved to carry out responsibilities of some kind.
But I think she really wanted to fly like swallows. She wouldn’t have opined against them if she hadn’t seen something that spoke to her soul.
One day, I hope she gets her time.