The Life of a Bird

When I was a child I used to do two things specifically regarding my bedroom window. The first was that I would turn out all the lights, open my windows and stare out at the stars. The second was that we used to get birds building the nests in the roof and the birds would fly back and forth directly above and I would watch them. I became so obsessed with the birds flying around near my window that I wished I was a bird, so free, and sometimes I dreamt of flying over the town at night. Needless to say I both knew it was not possible to be a bird and also that I was a strange child. I remember that one day, coming to my mum and telling her that I wanted to be a bird. I believe that my mum probably didn’t really understand me particularly well because it was not long after that I was gifted two pet budgies for my Christmas present. I loved those birds, but I was a little confused because I had communicated a desire to be a bird, not to own a bird. Constantly being misunderstood is, unfortunately, the story of my life. No problem really, I just do my own thing. One of my budgies was blue and the other ‘rainbow’, the blue was female and called ‘Poppy’ and the rainbow was male and called ‘Rainbow’. I had hoped to tame them, unfortunately we never achieved it. We had to let them out so they could fly about awhile, once they returned to their cage we closed the door, but it could sometimes take awhile. One night there was a thunderstorm and one of the budgies died. It was sad and not long after the other budgie also died. There were in many ways besties and as free as two caged birds could be.