Bird Plant

Bird Plant

My friend MurrayLou McAdams came by today. She brought her little Janie. MurrayLou used to be a neighbor. She came by often when Janie’s age to play and visit.

“Miss Wanda, I wonder if you could watch Janie for a little while. I have some errands in town but Mom is busy. Would it be a bother?”

“Oh gracious, no! Come on in, let’s catch up.”

Seems MurrayLou took her love of birds first to university then on to be a well-known ornithologist. She moved away but comes often to visit her mother and me.

“I tell Janie all the time about your magic tree. See you later!” Off she scurried to errands leaving the two of us alone.

I checked out my little charge. Janie’s about eight, curly black hair, all elbows and knees. Just like her mom at that age, but with black hair.

“Okay, Janie. Want to see the famous tree?” I lead her to the dining room window.

“What’s so famous about it? Mom says it’s magic. I don’t believe in magic or fairies or witches or Santa Claus.”

Tough crowd, I thought.

“Well, take a look. This is the magic bird plant. See the feeders?”

Janie nodded, but still seemed skeptical.

“I just filled those feeders with magic seed. Now sit here quietly, and watch the plant grow birds.”

We settled into comfy chairs by the window with binoculars and a bird guide. Soon the tree was full of all sorts of birds. Cardinals, blue jays, sparrows, juncos, titmice. A colorful profusion of songs and wings.

Janie’s eyes widened. “Wow, it is like magic. The seeds you planted grow birds!”

“And if you purse your lips just so, you can whistle and bring more.”

We spent the rest of our time learning to whistle.



W/C 300