April 30, 2013 by CassieCravings
My curly headed boy and I were bent over our roses when we first heard it. “Listen,” I whispered. Eli cupped his hand to his ears. With all of his might, he listened.
Slowly a grin spread across his face. He brushed back his curls, “‘Dose are ‘wittle biwrds. I heawrs ‘dem to muh eawrs.”
On our fence post hangs a bird house. It isn’t a special type or even very much to look at. But little Eli and I have been mulling about the thought that there might be baby birds before the spring is out. Now the quick, hungry chirping of birds cried out from that bird house.
We listened intently. Neither of us barely breathing. Neither of us moving. “Lay down, my mama. So we’s can hears ‘dem ‘da whole day.”
As quietly as we could, we found a spot. My curly headed boy and I rested on the cool sidewalk. Eli reached for me. His fingers traced my hand as we pondered the family of birds who picked our backyard to live. “I t’inks ‘dere three of ‘dem. I bet they nice. I hope ‘dey wants to be my fwriends,” he sighed.
I closed my eyes. I soaked in the spring sunshine, gentle and warm. I breathed the scent of blooming honeysuckle. I got lost in the sound of his voice.
Contently we laid there. I’m not sure how long, but as long we were there, as long as we rested, as long as we imagined, as long as we felt that Texas breeze, our little world was just right.