One on one with an Indigo Bunting

It was the kind of blue I’ve seen in a summer Sno-Cone, a deep turquoise similar to the pointed party hat at The Dollar Tree. A stand-out color from the middle of a pink-everywhere butterfly bush and an odd mix with the red barn to my right.

An Indigo Bunting appeared in the backyard, an easy to spot “other” that caused a frantic liftoff of chickadees and red wing blackbirds, the neighborhood regulars. They knew which trees had the ideal lookout point, just like the crows knew which rooflines offered the best gathering spot for an emergency meeting.

I wondered if the Bunting had found the brook for a drink or a bath and had he found where the seeds were most plentiful? He seemed cautious, his movements not as graceful as the neighborhood swallows. Stranger in a strange land. I thought about the black cat that scouts from the bordering pasture.

Without understanding why, I began to think about Bird World and how the blue jays warn other birds about approaching danger. How on the coldest of winter nights, many birds roost together, sharing body heat and practicing safety in numbers. I thought about the male cardinal waiting patiently while his partner eats. We hear a lot about “survival of the fittest” but there is still something to be said in favor of an all-for-one attitude.

I wish with all my heart that the children Trump stuffed in cages when they entered our neighborhood could have been met by a bird team that took them to water, showed them where to find food, and snuggled with them at night, offering a lesson about compassion and unity. Imagine....an Indigo Bunting, free as a bird, while human children are packed into locked cages.

Heartbreaking.