Are You Sleeping-Tweet Tweet?

Are You Sleeping-Tweet Tweet?

“Ian, it’s time-chirp chirp to wake up-tweet tweet.” Ian’s mother always started out sweet with a song in her voice. But Ian always managed to work her last pale lavender feather. “He is such a lazy parakeet-chirp,” Iris complained to her mate. “Can’t he just go to sleep-tweet early like the rest of us budgies-chirp. He needs his rest-chirp chirp to be ready for what the day brings-tweet.” Thor, Ian’s father, ignored her, and just turned his head the other way keeping busy with his song and picked at and fluttered his bright yellow wings. “He stays up too late-chirp with his cousins, Rollie, Sky and Gus-tweet. They think they’re men-tweet, but they’re acting like fledglings-chirp who don’t know any better-tweet. What will those males do-chirp the day when the weather changes-tweet tweet, how will they know where to go-chirp when they are not disciplined-tweet? What will happen to them-chirp at the time of a great fire-tweet, there will no be time-twerp to come back for them-tweet; they will not be prepared-chirp for that day of darkness-tweet tweet. Or what about when the branches-chirp are suddenly cut off-twerp twerp and we have to relocate-tweet; they will not be trained-chrip. We’ve lost many keets like that,” chirruped Iris to Thor her mate who may as well have been an old barren branch. “Ian - squeak!”

Ian remained still with his little crocked legs securely perched on two branches, tucked safely in a dark corner, with barely a hint of fluttered wings, and with lazy eyelids still closed he sluggishly replied, “Ma-twee, don’t ruffle your pretty-chir feathers,” he said with a bit of nectar in his peep. “I just need a few more-chir minutes.” Iris peeped inside, “He wasn’t going to-tweet do it to her again-chirp! He thinks he can get away with anything with a little-chirp chirp sugary chatter.” “Ian, look at your plumage-tweet, you’ve lost your bright color-chirp because you’ve missed your morning bath all this week-squack. You used to be a brilliant yellow-chirp, but now your whole body is almost black-tweet like the stripes around your neck. You’re starting to look like-twerp aunt LuLu and Maya, dingy and pale-chirp! That’s okay for them-chirp, they’re females-tweet, but not for a young male budgie-twerp. Get up Ian-squack!”

Iris looked at her lazy growing budgie and could see that his body was getting larger and larger just as a male budgie should. “You know Thor-chirp, your son is just like you-tweet. He’s growing to be a strong budgie-chirp chirp, but he doesn’t get enough exercise and stimulation-twerp twerp. He really needs to go out-chirp and do more foreaging-tweet. And you Mr. Bacchus-tweet tweet,” Iris turned to her mate, “why aren’t you out now-chirp chirp teaching your son to go migrating early-tweet tweet so the two of you can defend-twerp and stake out a territory for us-tweet tweet. Where-twerp are we going to have the other keets you wanted-tweet tweet, in our old nest? Chirp-It’s no wonder you’ve got almost no tail feathers left-twerp, you have me pulling on them regularly-tweet tweet. Ugh, you Bacchus parakeets,” Iris tittered lightly knowing she could not stay mad at her Thor for long.

Iris started to pluck at Ian’s feathers trying to clean his ashen yellow plumage without water while he was still trying to sleep. Iris kept talking to Ian. “Ian, don’t you understand-twitter? There are things you’ll learn-chirp away from our nest that will carry you-tweet through the rest of your life. Twerp-You never know when bad times will hit-tweet, and I want you to know how to survive-chirp chirp.” “I know what I’m doing ma-twee,” Ian barely twittered trying to quiet his mother. “Oh? Do you know enough-chirp to raise a family, be a provider-tweet, a protector-chirp chirp, and help your little ones when they’re lost-twerp twerp,” inquired Iris. “You worry too much-chir,” Ian half heartedly tried to settle his mother’s concerns.

There were no more responses forthcoming from Ian because he fell asleep again and his mother finally felt exacerbated by his lack of interest and twittered, “Ian Bacchus-squak, are you listening to me-chirp? You had better-tweet get a move on-chirp, we are all gathering-tweet tweet and the sun will be rising soon-chirp chirp.”

Once more, without Ian, the Bacchus parakeet family and their friends spent a beautiful sunny day together in flight, going from tree to tree, meadows, houses, barns, and gardens; and jumped, dipped, and swooped in and out of swimming pools, bird baths, wet curbsides, and water pools on the grass.

Ian’s older sister, Niblet, was never any trouble and was as usual the first in the water and the last to get out, she loved it. Her body was thin, with light pretty lavender feathers like her mother, and fine black lines that capped her head like a bonnet. Sunny, a male, was the largest and oldest of the Bacchus keet siblings who was bright yellow with no markings, pure as yolk, just like his father, Thor. Sunny was well trained and ready to start a family of his own. Then there was little Jazzi, the youngest always happily cleaning her contrasting black and yellow wings, standing tall showing off her thin lime green breast, a rarity for a female, a beauty mark passed down from her great great grandmother Isabella.

They swooped and fluttered in and out of orange, apple, and grapefruit trees and feasted on pine nuts that were nestled in beautiful umbrella shaped trees with foliage of light green to bluish coloring.

As Iris bathed and pecked at fruit she was lost in thought. Today, as well as many other times, her son missed the early morning flights to the orange trees, his favorite. Ian’s mother worried about her youngest. He was always the last to rise and leave the resting branches, and many times stayed behind sleeping. Any other time of the year she would worry about leaving him alone, but she thought she didn’t have to worry so much right now, because it was spring and he could still hide among all the bright flowers right through summer.

Iris talked to Ian until she was blue in the face about not venturing far away from their resting branches alone. She worried about Ian staying behind because it didn’t give him enough practice and experience with dodging and hiding to keep him from being the main course for much larger birds. There was so much that Iris wanted him to know and learn directly from the male keets; and most importantly those things he couldn’t learn from her about a song or call notes for begging calls for food, danger or distress.

“Iris,” peeped Thor, her mate, “have you seen Ian-tweet? Did he follow us-chirp? We’re ready to take flight-peep peep to practice patterns of journey formations-chirp chirp.” “No Thor,” Iris tweeted forcefully, “you said to just leave him-twerp, so we did! Thor Bacchus-chirp chirp, I don’t know why you don’t put your foot down-tweet tweet or use those strong plumage feathers of yours to nudge him up-twerp twerp. Sometimes I think all you’re good for is a beautiful love song or a cloacal kiss-tweet tweet. Really!” Thor knew when he was in trouble so he quickly began to soar and swoop around his mate Iris, singing her favorite love song. Expertly landing on a branch to show off his talents, he then hung from one foot and dangled upside down until she came to nudge him.

Ian started to stir as the warm morning sun peeked through the green leaves. It was quiet, and hardly a bird song or a call note was noticeable. He wondered how long it had been since his family left for baths and food. He was getting hungry now and his thirst was growing. He pecked around the nearby trees and shrubs but didn’t find anything significant to eat. He thought twice about staying put and waiting for the others, but decided to venture out into the open field in search of a meal and water anyway.

Ian was feeling still a bit sluggish and was lazily flying in search of food not being mindful of his route. He decided to land on top of a barren tree that overlooked a meadow. He stood perched atop the leafless tree and pecked at a few little tibits of seeds of some sort that had landed there probably from a light wind. He quickly lost interest as he started to think about pecking at some oranges. He looked around but didn’t recognize his surroundings. Ian was lost in thought and he didn’t notice the two black crows that were circling above.

Then suddenly he heard the loud flap of the black wings of the crows and fear set into him. He suddenly saw the dark shadows as they blocked the sunlight and his little black beaded eyes suddenly locked with those big dark marbles eyes of one of the birds. He rapidly flutters his wings and barely moved out of harm’s way at the first attack and the beak of the hungry crow just missed him. What seemed like a just a moment later came the next strike. Ian was still in the brown barren tree and realized he was a bright prime target. Yellow, he quickly thought, was like an orange in a dirt patch. Then he heard his mother’s words ring in his ears.

If during spring through summer you find yourself as the potential prey of a larger bird, hide among all the bright flowers. It will be hard for them to find you there.” So Ian swooped in another direction and headed for the dense foliage, where an array of colorful flowers, were in bloom. But before he could land there he felt his equilibrium suddenly off. His right wing had been nicked by the black crow and he lost control and spiraled quickly landing on a mix of dirt and grass. He hopped and flew low until he reached the safety of the dense vibrant flowers. “I made it,” Ian exclaimed to himself breathlessly. He panted feverishly but still kept moving, and finally stopped when he found a low level puddle of water. He drank only a few drops and kept moving in desperation.

As the pair of crows proceeded to swoop and soar across the vivid meadow with ease searching for their snack, Ian worked hard to move about the greens and flowers to be, if nothing else, a moving target. He finally slowed realizing that his normal bright yellow plumage was really not as easy a target because he was almost gray from the lack of baths this week. A blessing he finally thought.

As the hours passed and while it was still day light Ian realized that his wing would not serve him well to get him home. He had moved about for so long and in so many directions, that he didn’t know which way to go anyway.

He thought about sending out a call note but did not know what noise to make in his time of distress. Instead, he quietly uttered faint sounds that did nothing but make him whimper. He knew now that he would have to wait until morning, for what he didn’t know.

It was the first time Ian felt alone and he was now cold, hungry and thirsty. He didn’t know what to do and had no one around to help him. He suddenly realized that while he enjoyed sleeping, it did not serve him well for there were other things more important than himself. He imagined his family and friends would be worried sick. And his mother, well, he could only imagine what his mother would be going through. He wished now that he could feel that comforting familiar pecking at his body, the way she would gently nudge him to get up in the morning, and the stories she would tell him about life. Ian was lost in his thoughts for hours and finally grew tired and fell asleep in the deep cold brush.

Ian shivered now, and was awaken because of the bitter cold. He sat in the dark scared because the still of the night produced unfamiliar sounds. To get his mind off of his fear, he searched his memory bank for words and stories of his father, mother, uncles and aunts. He then realized that sleeping in and staying behind didn’t give him enough practice to keep him familiar with the new spots where his family and friends searched for food. Because he didn’t pay attention he didn’t know the whereabouts of his family when they were away from their resting branches. He also realized that he didn’t have enough experience with dodging and hiding from the much larger birds to keep him from being their main course. He became conscious of the fact that there was so much that he needed to know to be on his own and he felt the weight of disappointment fall hard on his back. “What is a keet without family-peep,” he finally surmised.
Then as day break shone the first hints of light, to his amazement he realized he knew more than he thought he had, he just didn’t practice much of anything enough to stay with him or in this case to be able to help himself when he needed it most. This empowered Ian to get up and out now.

Ian used his full plumage and made his feathers forcefully work as hard as his will. He looked up to thank his creator and he knew in his heart that he was headed in the right direction.
He swooped down to eat off the orange trees for nourishment and dunked himself and worked expertly to bath in the patches of water that looked familiar. With each new flap of his wings he became more excited and determined to reach his destination, home.

He didn’t know where it came from within, but out of his throat he produced sounds that were unfamiliar to him. They were pleasant sounds. He kept singing the same song again and again.
Then a new short call note came to him. He practiced it over and over and then paused. And again, he called out over and over and paused. This time he heard it. The response was exciting and stimulating. Other keets heard him! There were budgies who heard him! Ian did flips in the air, lowered himself in flight, and then soared high in the sky in celebration. His heart was now full of joy. Ian knew he was home.


Inspired by:

Matthew 24:42-47

“Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understanding this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour. Who then is the faithful and wise slave, whom his master has put in charge of his household, to give the other slaves their allowance of food at the proper time? Blessed is that slave whom his master will find at work when he arrives. Truly I tell you, he will put that one in charge of all his possessions.”