OB BLA DE, OB BLA DAH, LIFE GOES ON
They come back every year at this time. The Ooo-bid-dee birds.
Actually, they are Orioles. Bright orange breasts and black beaks, the Orioles came to nest near my old house in the City every year.
His mate, not as flamboyant or flashy, would sit next to him on the cable wire near my yard. A bird feeder always stocked, he would swoop down and grab some seed in his mouth to deliver to her, as she waited in her place patiently, never moving. She never seemed to want to go retrieve the seed herself, and was content to accept his gift to her time and time again.He would lean over and place the seed in her open mouth, and after every mouthful he would sing to her, making the loud and cooing ooo-bid-ee ooo-bid-ee sound that I loved to listen to. They could go on for hours.
It was that sound I looked forward to every Spring to announce the arrival of the new season, just as I await the arrival of the sound of the honking geese in the Fall. To me it seemed the announcement of true love for all the world to hear. How I longed to hear someone sing to me that way.I was feeling sad that I would not hear the duet from the two lovers ever again, as my location had changed and I am a different listener now. Until this year.
They followed me. I have heard them.It’s as if they are telling me "Love still exists, it’s in the air" for all to hear. Right outside my bedroom window, before the sun has fully risen.
There they were again, singing.
Reminding me to find my own Ooo-bid-ee bird and sing again.
