I realized this morning that what bonds me to the Westerly ducks, what makes me want to know them, is the flock of ten American Black Ducks that resides (most of the time) in the Winnapaug Salt Pond very close to Atlantic Avenue. Each morning I spend time sitting with them, talking to them and sending them love. I feel almost as if I am part of the flock, and it is a powerful feeling, that familial moment. It’s somewhat similar to the experience I had year ago touching whales in Baja – and I can’t even begin to describe how compelling (and addictive) and spiritually healing it can be to touch a whale.
I have great memories of those whale touching moments. They were splashy and spectacular. These days I’m experiencing and enjoying what I refer to as: That Bird Moment. It’s that moment when you and a bird become one. When you spend five or ten minutes looking at and talking to a bird. When the moment is over, and you quietly go on your own way, back to the world, knowing you’ve just had another moment with another one of the remarkable creatures that populate this little planet.
This morning I drove up next to – and I mean right up next to – a Northern Mockingbird sitting in a bramble in Weekapaug, a Westerly enclave. Amazingly, it didn’t fly away. I haven’t been able to get quite that close to many wild birds, let alone one that appears happy to sit and chat for a bit. I snapped a few photos (couldn’t resist) but then I put down my camera and just talked to him. He even tweeted back at me conversationally. (Yes, he may have been mocking me; it’s his job after all.) But he didn’t leave, so eventually I did, and as I was driving away, I was reminded once again what this big year of mine in Westerly is really all about: these little bird moments.
I’m not giving up the chase – I find joy in that too.
But That Moment is what it’s really about.
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