Until I was 5 we lived on an acreage in a house with blue trim down by a stream with blueberries and frogs and birds all over the place. My best friend lived down a windy path a few minutes away. I loved it.
My first memory that I can piece together that isn't just images is of our kitchen curtains. They were orange...you know, the old seventies orange patterned waffly fabric kind. They framed a big picture window that looked out over the trees. I remember a bird hit the window - a big fat robin. I ran outside (I think I was about 3) and picked it up. It was still breathing and I was worried about it. Mom helped me make it a little "bird bed" out of a towel and I just laid down on the deck and stared at it until it got up shook it's head a bit and flew off. I was so happy. I spent the next few weeks looking for "my robin" (I think I called it Robbie or something original like that...) until our puppy Scottie wandered into our yard as a stray a few weeks later. After that Scottie was all I could think about for ages.
Those goofy curtains are up at my parent's cabin now...they're ugly. But Mom can't get rid of them and I don't think I'd want her to. They are just right some how...
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2 comments:
So... uh, what became of the Robin?
I'm not too sure. I saw lots of robins in the yard after that and I was sure some of them were "my" robin (I was looking for them all over - I think I drove my Mom nuts) and there was a nest/family of them in a tree by our deck. Then the next year the family never came back to the nest. I just figured Robbie went away to visit someone else. I imagine our having a dog then may have had something to do with it. Scottie was always chasing the squirrels around...maybe he scared the Robins from being too close to the house.
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