I spent 15 minutes watching a robin build it’s nest in front of my late friend Jackie’s old building, fascinated by the bird’s skill and perseverance. He’d fly straight up to install whatever item he found appealing, then swoop back down to look for another like he was comparison shopping at Bloomingdales.
“So, how much for that twig, the one by the hedge? I’m designing a deck outside our bedroom. It’s the exact size I’ve been looking for. How much…what? Why, the price of twigs have certainly gone up.”
At first I thought it was a female feathering her nest until suddenly a part of the paper was retrieved from a trash can. It’s was the sports page, then dropped as if it clashed with the wallpaper.
I thought of Jackie and how much she loved decorating. Though she had plenty of money to hire someone, she always did it herself, gathering whatever caught her eye, like her Japanese mahogany window box she’d load with geraniums, and rather than a window, display in the living room.
Maybe it was Jacks coming back as a bird, so beautiful and industrious…happy to be tending her house humming a little birdsong.
I looked up to her old windows remembering all the afternoons spent in her peach and beige living room drinking champagne giggling over Hilton, her deaf Cocker Spaniel, or some movie we saw. Imagine Diane Keaton’s face and personality in a Chanel suit and prim pumps, strands of pearls draped around her neck.
When the robin landed right in front of me after one of it’s installations, we stared at one another in fleeting recognition.
I walked toward home thinking…I think I’ll clean out my drawers and change the sheets, laughing to myself, a bird could inspire such domesticity.
But maybe it was Jackie who did the inspiring coming back as one. Get hold of yourself Susannah.
Suddenly out of nowhere a band of birds flew overhead singing what sounded like the prelude to the Sound of Music, one of her favorite films.
When I went home, it hit me…today was her birthday…maybe she came back for a little champagne.
You just never know what nature has up her sleeve, now do you? 
SB
What a fun and poignant post! I’m glad your friend lives on in your heart and that she might have spoken to you through the home-decorating robin.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It sounds bizarre I know, but stranger things have happened. I loved her so. She was so many things to me: friend, mentor and even a mother influence. I miss her every day. Sigh
LikeLike
I don’t think it’s bizarre, but rather sweet and touching.
LikeLike
Thanks Anne. You’re always so kind.
LikeLiked by 1 person
added memo to Anne…the piece is flailing…I guess no one is interested in the eternal love of a friend, so I really thank you for your thoughts.
LikeLike
Well……. Maybe you said it all, and people couldn’t think of anything to add. Losing a dear friend is most difficult, and I really feel for you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
As your turdus friend personifies, life goes on. Keep feathering your nest, Susannah.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We should all continue to feather our nests.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What an uplifting piece, Susannah. It brightened up this dreary morning.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Is it raining there too? Thanks for reading, Ode to Jackie. I miss her so. Sigh.
LikeLike
This gave me goosebumps. There is not a doubt in my mind that Jackie made a visit, and she knew just how to get your attention. Loved the bird commentary too! They really are mesmerizing to watch, especially during construction. We call all learn a thing or two from watching our feathered friends build a nest.
LikeLiked by 1 person
They’re born decorators, aren’t they? Italians all believe in visitations. My grandmother swore my grandfather came back every Wednesday at 3 to play mariana, their favorite Italian card game. Apparently he always lost, owing her money. Yes Grandma, we’d say. lol
LikeLike