Swit Tuesdays

Oh, Mother! (continuation of the article MOTHER OF ALL ART)

By Swit La Pound

Picking up from where we left, mother nature does not cease to impress me with her master pieces. The last time we looked closer at a spider, its planning and execution, and its goal attainment, it is impossible to deny that nature leads our art and being. Our very existence.

Today, again, as with every other morning, I woke up and went to sit outside in the garden, waiting for the sun to show face and for nature to awake. It is always most beautiful in the mornings. There is not much humming and buzzing of vehicles and people. Nature is distinctly audible and visible, without human interruption. In my garden, there is a huge tree, I have no clue what the tree is called, but it is always green, all year round. Different species of birds perch here. Some for the sun, visibly, some seem to fight over nests, with the one bird that lives here, and some seen to be getting food from the tree. All of them fascinate me and capture my sight easily. Green with yellow beaks, blue with black feet, yellow and black-bodied ones. Variety.

Besides seeing and admiring my ears too, always give a keen and curious listen. These birds that come to this tree, put up a show without knowing it, the best in the world, I must say. From their unique and differing colors and designs, which look like flying painted art pieces, their sizes, their beautiful calls, and their well-knitted tiny nests, they present nothing but perfection, as they hop and swing from branch to branch. The chirping and flapping are consistent, though divergent depending on the type of bird, and the surroundings as well.

To me, at first, it seemed like happy chirping and flapping all the time, until I took time to listen with an unbiased ear and see with unblinded eyes. Turns out, each bird has varying sounds that come out on different incidents, under different circumstances. Most times, the birds seem to understand each other, despite their differing types and sounds. They seem to communicate effectively and consistently.

This observation awoke the curiosity in me, and so I observed the bird that lives in the tree. It has a yellow body and a black tummy. This bird is ever busy and occupied. If it’s not sourcing building materials, bringing them back, and renovating or rebuilding nests, it wards off intruders, who fought back and always came for another try. At times, it flew off for some time, only to return to its home always. I noticed how it had a slow, steady, and timed chirp. As it worked alone, or around birds, it saw no danger in. The first days, it used to look at me down below, with suspicion, until I noticed, with the days, that it got comfortable and did not nervously fly off every time I moved as before. Daily, I watch this bird, observing and learning, in hopes of deciphering nature’s secrets to such functionality.

As afire said, when this bird is just sitting in the sun, it has a melodic chirp that comes every one minute or so. But then, when it sees danger or a threat, the chirping turns frantic, combined with frantically wagging tail feathers, chirpingping frantically, shaking its tail feathers, while hopping from one branch to the other, a message which all other