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One Moment in Time

© Anne Watkins

At the moment, my parrots are playing contentedly in their cages. Each pampered, well-loved companion bird has plenty of toys and tasty treats within easy reach. They are happy creatures and joyfully express their feelings with pleasant murmurings, oft-repeated words, imitations of household noises and plain-old bird sounds. It's not hard to guess their moods; birds let it all hang out. Yet, they are empathetic beings and often sense my emotions, try as I might to hide them.

Today is a beautiful, pre-autumn day in Alabama. The sky is a hazy blue, and the foliage is just starting to turn. A few trees have begun to scatter their leaves, and a carpet of gold and orange blankets the ground beneath. It's my favorite time of year.

As if in tune with the trees, my birds have been shedding feathers for the last few weeks. Discarded green, orange, blue, red and yellow bits of bird clothing drift to the bottoms of the cages. I collect the largest ones to save in a plastic container. It gives me pleasure to handle them and to study the intricate patterns of the feather barbs. Rio and Pancho watch me, their bright orange and black eyes not missing a thing.

They have been introduced to Bailey, my little grandson. Though they refuse to say his name, they know that he belongs to Laura, their 'big sister' and they are politely interested. Bailey is fascinated with them and reaches his chubby fingers toward the loud green thing I call Pancho. I pull him away before Pancho can reach back; it's too early to know if I can trust them with each other. It is my hope that Bailey will grow up filled with love, patience and understanding for our birds, and indeed, for all living creatures.

At the moment, it is peaceful and quiet in my home. I've already been for a walk this morning, and reveled in the more comfortable temperatures. Later today, I think I'll give the parrots a shower; they love that. And I need to scrub Rio's cage and get him ready for a photo shoot for a company press release. I've got interviews to conduct for an article due in a couple of weeks, and I need to plan something for my son-in-law's birthday tomorrow.

Tomorrow. September 11, 2002. I'll give thanks to God for another day with my loved ones. I'll remember all the wonderful, miraculous blessings with which my life overflows. I'll remember one year ago, when my morning started out calm, quiet and uneventful. I'll remember what changes we've all had to endure, to grow accustomed to. I'll never forget. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. And I will pray.