Words to the Wise

Lets hear it for the birds....

I know Mother’s Day was a few weeks ago, but it’s still May, I only post monthly, and I’ve got Mom Wisdom on my mind. So here we go….

My latest obsession is a pond.

By most measures, the pond isn’t that special. Just 388 steps around. A twenty-foot bridge across a brook to the nearest house. Maybe 75 yards from the town tennis courts. For weeks now, a volleyball’s been bobbing on the surface. No one, it seems, wants to wade in to retrieve it.

But by one measure, this pond is spectacular. At the point where my own nest is empty, there’s something deliciously satisfying—and just a bit nostalgic—at being surrounded by the nests of others, taking in the warbling wisdom of birdmoms.

If you’re even remotely bird-curious, you need the Merlin app on your phone. (Go ahead, download it. I’ll wait.) Merlin identifies birds by asking a few questions (Is your bird bigger than a crow? Smaller than a goose?), perusing a photo, or (my favorite) listening. At the touch of an icon, Merlin listens to the birds around me, shares their names, and reveals their secrets.

At the pond, my phone practically smokes in my hand, as Merlin logs bird after bird after bird. On just one visit, it logs an American Robin, a Red-Winged Blackbird, an American Goldfinch, an Eastern Kingbird, a Carolina Wren, a White-Throated Sparrow, a Gray Catbird, a Northern Parula, a Northern Cardinal, a House Sparrow, an American Redstart, a Red-bellied Woodpecker, a Northern Mockingbird, a White-breasted Nuthatch, a Tufted Titmouse, a Canada Goose (of course), an American Crow (still counts), a Common Grackle, a Yellow Warbler, a Song Sparrow, a Blue Jay, and a Black-capped Chickadee.

Typing that was exhausting, and I didn’t even do the hard part.

All these birdmoms, chirping and tweeting and warbling away, each in their own language, somehow managing to send a meaningful signal to their particular peeps amid a raucous ruckus of sound. This place is the Times Square of Birds—minus, thankfully, the Hop-On/Hop-Off touts, whizzing e-bikes, and honking cabs. (These minuses are also part of the pond’s appeal. I love Times Square as an analogy, but its reality makes me angsty.)

Until just a few years ago, scientists would’ve told me the birds doing the singing were mostly male. It was only in 2014 that an ornithologist (a woman, of course) determined that at least 70 percent of female birds sing.

Is there a single woman reading this who isn’t shaking her head and rolling her eyes right now? Who doesn’t doubt for a second that the other 30 percent of female birds are singing too? Who, if she’s a mom, hasn’t warbled endlessly at her kids at one point or another and all points in between?

A few weeks ago, my brother sent me a video of a mother peahen nudging her babies out of a tree. Apparently, it was time for them to fly—or whatever it is you call that half-flying, half-hurtling thing that peafowl do. On my way over to the pond this morning, I saw a mother squirrel carry a baby along the sidewalk and up a tree trunk. The baby’s tail was wrapped snugly around mom’s head, and she had the scruff of its neck between her teeth. Sometimes Mom Wisdom’s a nudge. Sometimes it’s a mouthful of fur and fluff. Sometimes it’s a bit of both.

In hindsight, Mom Wisdom for kids was probably easiest. (“Sharing is caring!” “You get what you get and you don’t get upset.” Or, if you’re a bird, “Chew your worms before you swallow!”) Even in the fledgling years, I somehow managed to meet the moment (“Make good choices!”), even when “the moments” were halfway out the door with airpods stuffed in their ears. I can see now that some of that Mom Wisdom made it through. A good bit of it, actually. Certainly, more than I thought at the time.

These days, with two “kids” in their mid-to-late twenties, I feel the way my GPS must feel when I take a wrong turn. There’s a lot of recalculating involved. On a recent car trip with my older son, I felt moved to share my theory of amusement park compatibility as a way to evaluate a potential life partner. How, if you hate roller coasters, you will never love roller coasters, and the last thing you want is to feel pressured to join your life partner on a roller coaster or feel a pang of guilt over not joining your life partner when they insist on riding one. It made sense to me as I began, but I quickly brought it to a close. I may have had a captive audience for that particular piece of wisdom, but childproof locks are no match for a 28-year-old intent on escaping, and my son had that look in his eye.

Recalculating….

I’m not sure what to call this phase of Mom Wisdom. Old Mom Wisdom doesn’t feel right. I’m not an Old Mom (yet) and I definitely don’t feel like one. I’m still a long way away from “Fiber is your friend.”

I’m still (to my good fortune) on the receiving end of Mom Wisdom myself, and it gives me hope. Sometimes my mom’s wisdom feels like an improv sketch gone awry. (Her riff on the importance of drying the kitchen sink after washing the dishes comes to mind. I suspect I’ll hear from her about this.) But sometimes her wisdom is truly wise. For example, the importance of eating dessert once you’ve reached a certain age. Have the brownie bites, she’ll tell you. Have them with the whipped topping of your choice. Have them every single night.

With wisdom like that, there’s hope for me yet. And dessert, which can bridge the gap until hope comes home to roost.

Happy Month of May, moms. On those days you find yourself with a mouthful of fur and fluff, remember—you’re not the only one. Pay attention to birds. A good walk always helps. And don’t forget to floss. (Mom Wisdom!)