When the orioles taunted me for infertility, or so I thought
That Spring, of all the trees in our leafy neighborhood, a pair of orioles honored us by choosing to build a nest on the greater bird-of-paradise plant outside our kitchen window.
It took three days for the pale-feathered female to weave a hammock-like nest, out of palm fibers, underneath the huge leaf. It was inspiring how she made countless trips to fetch fibers, and rigorously wove the fibers into the cozy nest.
Once she laid the eggs, she incubated them with the determination of a meditation. All these time, the turmeric-yellow male, perched on the nearby jacaranda tree, groomed himself, stood guard, and regularly brought a moth, a butterfly or a bee, for her to feed on.The eggs hatched, the hungry, featherless chicks emerged. Both parents shared the duty of tending to them, frantically bringing grubs. The chicks looked curiously out of their safe cocoon of the nest. Everyday I would watch them and take hundreds of pictures.Then one day, chirping chicks flied away. The empty nest waited to be flown away by the Santa Ana wind gust.
As I watched this beautiful story unfold from my kitchen, I was not left unstirred. At that time, I was undergoing my own struggle with infertility. I knew how hard it is. This oriole pair made this feat effortless, and added to my insecurity. I even felt some envy towards these birds.
But through this emotional conflict, they inspired me, and gave a serendipitous joy.
Later, parenthood came for us too. We are raising two chicks of our own.
(Our chicks. They will be in the nest for quite some time.)
The orioles left an impression on me. The conjugal duty sharing, hard work, creating a nest with no carbon footprint, and teaching independence to the kids!
Thank you, orioles. Your impact shared with the world.
Hi, myself Seema. I write on a multitude of topics, which you may find
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