Agog

There were three. Then it got windy and one fell out of the nest. Heartbroken, their mother tucked up the remaining two under her wing. She stayed as close as possible while foraging for their food the next day. 

She gave them strict instructions to wait quietly for her return. They were not to draw attention to themselves. They tried to do as she had said but they missed her. They could not help but look out for her. They had no idea how long she would be gone. 

They got braver, they got more curious. Their excitement on her return gratified her but scared her too. They had gotten close to the nest’s edge when they saw her. They had danced around not looking or paying attention to where their feet were. She tried not to worry.

She stayed with them as long as possible but she had to get food. She chastised them again about being careful and quiet. She was not worried about what they would do while she was away. She was terrified about what they would do when they saw her returning.

Her fear was consuming. She could not cope with another loss. She thought about never returning. She dreaded the moment they would see her but she would not be close enough to restrain or rescue them. But she could not stay away. They were getting bigger; one day soon they would be able to fly. Then her worry would stop.

But they could not fly yet. Their whole attention focused on her, on her comings and goings. Each time they saw a speck heading their way they hoped it was her. Disappointment only fuelled their excitement. 

Then one day, by the time she did return, they were well past being careful. One of them fell from the nest.

Now there was only one left, the smallest one. She shared the food she had gathered. Neither of them acknowledged that she had only one mouth to feed now. Neither of them looked down. 

It would be ages before this last little one could fly and she doubted her strength to persevere that long. She would have to be clever; she would have to find a way for this little one to come with her. 

In the morning she was gone at first light. It was lonely and a bit cold for the last little one. It was no fun. Waiting for her, without someone to share it with, was dull. 

When she returned, as she forced herself to do, she was horrified all over again. There was no activity, no sign of the last little one. No one was waiting excitedly for her. She almost turned back, convinced that the nest was empty.

But it wasn’t. The last little one was sleeping. This lack of watchfulness by the last little one was yet another sort of worry. She swooped in making much noise and commotion. The last little one woke with a fright and she regretted her actions immediately. She took the last little one under her wing, bringing calm back to the nest. They sat like that, together and close, for what remained of the day. She must take the last little one with her the next time because otherwise she would not be brave enough to return.

The following day she began to pull the nest apart. She was clever about it, she knew how to steal material from it without weakening it too much. After all, there was only one in it now; there was no need for so big a nest. The last little one was curious but she did not explain the reason for her industry.

She told the last little one, yet again, to be patient. They tucked up together that night as usual but the little one was excited and difficult to get settled. She was apprehensive.

When the next morning brightened she finished her preparations. She slipped into the harness she had made. She showed the last little one how the basket, that she had also made, hung from it. She explained that she planned to carry the last little one underneath her when she flew.

 She took off from the nest, harness on and the empty basket attached. She landed and found a small stone that she then placed into the basket. She took off again and headed back to the nest to show the last little one how her invention worked.

The last little one watched her, agog, and fell out of the nest.

She saw it happen.

She swooped, trying to catch the last little one mid air. Hampered by the harness and basket she struggled to manoeuvre and she ended up too high. She almost hit a tree but somehow she managed to land, basket and all, everything physically intact. She looked at the basket, cursing it, only to find the last little one safe inside it. 

The last little one looked at her, took the stone out of the basket and looked at her again. Her relief hurt. After instructing the last little one to sit still, they were off. They flew together all day and returned home that night, tired, to their nest. 

They spent all the following days like that, until the last little one could fly beside her; no harness, no basket. 

When that day came it was her turn to be all agog.