I built a birdhouse. They said the birds would not come.
They said it was all wrong. They said that I was all wrong. They said they were experts. They said the birds would not come.
That is not what birds like, they said. Birds don’t like that. Birds aren’t like that. Birds don’t want that. The birds will not come.
Everyone knows the birds will not come but you. Everyone knows that everyone but you knows that the birds won’t come. We laugh at you because we know the birds won’t come but you don’t. Everyone does.
You put the birdhouse on a post that no one wants. It was out for the trash and you took it. No one will want that post. Everyone knows that no one will want that post. We replaced that post with a really good pressure treated post that everyone but you knows is good and better. Why don’t you know what everyone knows? We know that you know and still don’t know and that makes it much worse. You stubbornly refuse to know that the post is no good and the birdhouse won’t work and the birds won’t come. If you’d only cooperate and know what everyone knows you wouldn’t be in such trouble all the time. You wouldn’t waste all your time making a birdhouse that the birds won’t like and put it on top of a post no one wants.
Dear God; reading this reassures those of us that
remember the goodness of our past is not gone.
It lives in a corner of western Maine…reading this
brings to mind “Granger” speaking in the closing
pages of Fahrenheit 451: “…we’ll turn around and
walk upstream. They’ll be needing us up that way.”Any other words I could write would fail me; I
hold tight to your writing when thoughts of
mine, joyful or dark, rule the paths of inner
contemplation. Hold tight the wonders of your
spouse and heirs. –Delaware Dave
But the birds came anyway.
4 Responses
I saw that comment, earlier today, and thought it was lovely.
The birdhouse is lovely, too. And the birds do come, and rest a little while, even when they have no song to sing to show their appreciation. They are glad and grateful to be here, all the same.
My teenage copy of Fahrenheit had a quote from Juan Ramon Jimenez that read in translation "If they give you ruled paper, write the other way." at the age of 15, I put it on my wall on ruled paper written across the lines at 90 degrees. My parents were sure that a horrible end would come to me.
They were correct, I practice law. I do, however, make things from time to time and consider myself to be at least your step brother. I sent your book to a young relative of mine in the hopes of illustrating the many ways a person can write. Maybe she should just ride her bike in circle for a while.
Yer gettin' a higher class o' bird there, I betcha! Long's they's not Yuppie birds.
I read F451 in my yute, but being much more a Heinlein kid it didn't appeal that much to me.
Of late, though, it's relevance shines thru.
One of the best short pieces on homeshooling I've read. Thank you.