Digital Rabbit Hole

                                     A Little Tushtie (also known as a House Wren)

Ode to my Tushties

I know the why; it’s scientific fact
But I choose to refuse this sad truth
I feel that big wind forming
that will blow right through my garden,
molding a cloud, of my favorite little birds
and carry them far away.

It’s instinct. Read the small print.
“If you came on this flight then you leave with us too”
If you are a migrating bird, those are the rules.

Costa Rica is known for its birds.
the variety, the color, the song
But I’m in love with what we call affectionately
our “Little Tushties “  drab little wrens,
who press their tail feathers against the screen
tipping over like teapots to eat.
They display their fluffy tushies,
like Can-Can dancers in a big finale,
eating non stop, our peeled bananas
So adorable I want to hug them all..
so why must they be the first to leave
and in just a few weeks, they all will be gone?

One afternoon they are quietly gathering,
in sociable groups, an inch long from beak  to tail,
2 by 2  4 by 4  but every year, they get swept up
So beware the Ides of March.
Since October they have been with us here
eating, chattering, tails smashed to our screen.
Then one March day….they  don’t  arrive at sunrise
or noon or in the afternoon
Everyone of them have left; they are just gone.

What wild instinct rushes through the crowd,
gobbling bananas, chirping, looking so cute,
and sticks this idea in their little heads,
“Sure looks like a nice day to fly North
some 3,000 miles
just to land in that back yard,
we landed last Spring
where nest building materials,
were lying around  so plentiful
and honestly, don’t you want to see that tree
that held the nest you were hatched in?

Even though those shiny sky scraping windows
kill a third of us as we fly inside instead of by
We try to be careful but hard to be careful
when they reflect so perfectly, the pure open sky..
Still flying for a month at night,
sleeping below to rest and feed,
bypassing hurricanes and heavy storms
that surely could be the death of us you see.
We can’t help ourselves they say,
we know when its time to go..

Even tho they know it’s true,
they can live like royalty here and never have to move,
or take  that  endless flight ever again,
if they just stay here all year and breed,.
Their answer comes so quickly…
“Sorry but…it’s instinct so now just wave goodbye
as we take our leave.’

“Some of us might not survive, going or coming
lots will die, but we promise we’ll be back..
and not just to Costa Rica or your town,
or your yard,  but this bedroom window,
where we always feed,
tipping like teapots, pressed against your screen …
So, don’t be sad; it’s instinct!
Come late Fall….you’ll see us again.”

Karima Hoisan
February 7, 2024
Costa Rica