Since I am currently out of finished audible files I thought I would just post up some flash fictions for the next few days till I get caught up again. This one was inspired by a photo of a hand holding out seeds to birds.
I stand, waiting, seed in my palm. I have done this, day after day, for what seems like weeks now. My prey flutters about me, never quite settling down onto my outstretched hand. Are they afraid of me? I offer no threat, just this collection of seeds that I know they would enjoy. Maybe if I settle down on this wall, try to be as still as a statue, they will come and eat what I offer.
You ask me why I do this? Well, you see I enjoy the little lives that flutter about this cold and tired city. The rush, rush of humanity and the noise from all the mechanical things fill my head so much that I need this attempt at finding peace. Finding nature in the middle of the cold, hard towers of glass and steel is difficult at bet, but I continue my quest. Focusing down, I ignore the cars and buses that pass me by, the people who are chattering away on their cell phones and find that still, quite place deep inside.
As I find my center, I feel a light touch on the tips of my fingers. Slowly, I open one eye and then smile as the first sparrow comes to land, his claws clutching my sleeve for balance. He cocks his head to the side then swiftly darts his beak into the seed resting in my palm. With a happy chirp he calls his friends to the bounty I have offered. A dozen black-capped chickadees flutter toward me now, soft feathers fluttering just loud enough for me to hear them over the sounds of the street.
They chirp and flutter, first one and then the others coming to enjoy the bounty that I have offered to them. The bravest little one settles on my thumb and cocking his head to study me, he talks to me in the language of birds. Sweet sounds that I wish I understood.
Operation successful, peace has been found. I have an oasis of calm in the center of the city, if only for a few moments. As the seed disappears, so do my little friends. The last, the brave one, rubs his head against my thumb in thanks and then flies off into the gray skies, in search of something else. Tomorrow I will return, this time with more seeds and maybe some nuts. I wonder if I can attract the squirrels in the park the same way?