Most afternoons we sit on his back porch watching the birds in the trees along his fence. It's summer here and as the day cools the little birds flock to his trees to catch some bugs and play for a while. It's the same time everyday, generally between 6 and 6.30pm, that they begin to appear. Blue Wrens, Yellow Wing Honey Eaters, Green Honey Eaters, Silver Eyes, Swallows and Willy Wag Tails, all congregate like kids in a multicultural school yard. Occasionally the big kids, the Green Parrots or Pink and Grey Galahs join them. They sit and joyfully chirp in a leafless Buddlea tree that is slowly coming back to life. We watch them dart around and catch bugs on the wing. Bird hour is an event and he's always lined up waiting for it
The conversation with my friend is always similar, always on repeat over the course of the 45 mins that we spectate the wonders of nature
" wow there are so many birds"
" did you see that one"
" I think that was a Hawk"
" I'm glad we kept that tree. We can't ever cut it down"
I wonder what he thinks about on the evenings I'm unable to join him.
Recently there's a new comment.... A week ago I hung 2 bird feeders from the tree, one for water the other for seed. The birds are slowly becoming accustomed to them. But my friend has forgotten who hung them other than it was a young lady who did it. I tell him it was me but his brain is no longer connecting the images.
I've started taking photos to capture the moments for later when it will be something to talk about, a story to tell him even if he doesn't remember.
I'm learning to slow down and stop and share the moments with him. They will be gone all too soon.
