Sulphur

Sulphur came to visit again today. We have this little routine he and I. First he flys to my balcony rail, then down to the cane chair then to the day bed, each a step further to the window to let me knows he's arrived for a feed. I get some seed he steps back to his comfort zone to let me set it down safely, I go back inside and quietly watch him. When hes finished it's the same routine as he asks for seconds. I generally oblige, hoping that our little friendship will grow.

Today I ponder if he'll let down his guard, let me in a little closer, if our friendship will deepen a little more.

And it did. This time when he came for seconds I played hard to get. I pretended I hadn't noticed his usual request, all the while leaving the door wide open, and so he got my attention, he walked right in through the backdoor into my living room onto the rug, and eventually up to the kitchen bench, so I got him his seconds. We used to have this one eyed possum that used to let himself inside my childhood home, he became part of the family, snuggling himself into my fathers lap, and eventually winning the affection of our gentle flippant sometimes jealous bulldog Ellimae.

Again, Sulphur, never over staying his welcome, finished his 2nd meal but this time he turned before leaving and belched his thanks and fared me well before he parted. And i remembered a whale who once danced up close before me to my great delight for a long time, at Fraser, who waved one final goodbye before diving under and wasn't to be seen again.

I'm in awe of how we creatures speak different languages live in the air, on the earth, and under the sea, yet connected with one another.

With Sulphur, I delight in the small steps of routine and familiarity. I know it's him and not some other crested one pretending to be him, because he goes to the same places in my heart where he knows he'll get my attention.

All the while I wonder who here is really trying to get my attention and what is it He is trying to tell me.

Sometimes I wonder if he ever visits and finds me not home, is he disappointed. Does he know the joy and childish rapture I receive when he comes to visit, does he also share that same joy. Where did he come from, why single me out, and where does he go.

Thankful for a feathered friend, and what I'm learning from him.

[photo oppotunity minus the mopstick and waterbottle!]