Bird watching: A reflection

Variety, community, and bravery

Spoken rendition of “Bird watching”.

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Photo by Patrice Bouchard

Process and Themes

At times, finding enough inspiration to create is a daunting task. To coerce something to come before you often results in an art form that fails to connect with the artist and audience.  The most fluid creating seems to come from placing our focus on the things we are naturally close to, whether physical, mental, or emotional. When I am wanting to write and simultaneously trying to find a place to begin, I am learning to start with what is right in front of me, even when I am not sure if the recent experience or immediate thought carries enough to form a poem that is interesting, provoking, or beautiful. Bird watching began with this doubt.

I started the draft in a hotel the morning after a corporate holiday party while traveling for work. The prior night’s event was an enjoyable one, with hours spent laughing, relaxing, and imbibing with colleagues and partners in a festive pop-up bar. Conversation about work quickly moved into the typical topics of kids, holidays, and travel plans. The mood was merry, and it seemed people were having a genuinely good time.

At one point in the evening, I was between conversations and wandered the room looking for a new partner to talk with.  For a moment I could clearly see who felt comfortable in this setting and who was really having to try. My natural comfort swings back and forth in spaces that are crowded and loud, at times enraptured by a conversation and other times feeling very self-conscious. In taking a moment to just observe, it was possible to determine, at least partially, who wanted to head home and who wanted the party to continue into the night. I’m sure that had someone polled the audience, my assumptions were likely not completely accurate. But I think it is safe to say that by extrapolating from my experience, it is likely an experience shared with many. While knowing there was a diverse level of natural comfort in the room, it was interesting to note that essentially everyone, including myself, all stood in a similar manner with a drink in hand, dressed in nice holiday attire, and chatted away as if feeling fully comfortable and in control of their situation.

Commonality is a trait that brings people together to form groups or organizations, and there are times in which we choose to adapt in an attempt to belong. However, in that moment I wondered what an event would look like if each of us showed up how we wanted to on that day, reflected how we were feeling, were honest in conversation, and dressed in a style that we were comfortable in.

The following morning, before heading into the office, I began to write what would become Bird watching. Having this poetic conversation about belonging, assumption and harmony from the vantage point of birds seemed a lighthearted way to begin, as if there was a way to get to the center of these important musings without explicit answers, as we humans seem to assign character traits to animals based on how we observe them.

A few days into the writing, I was somewhat stuck with where the poem needed to go. To complete the last half of the poem I brainstormed to create two lists.

First, after the stanza describing the features of the heron, I knew the poem needed to shift to a different set of birds, but I was not sure what birds were the best for the message of the poem. So I wrote out a long list of bird types that I could reference as I thought through various lines. While I ultimately only used four types in the stanza that begins with Look closely at me and look closely at you, making the list, followed by viewing pictures of the intricacies of each bird inspired this stanza.

The second brainstorming process was a list of various traits that birds hold as well as things birds do, or at least words that I use to describe bird activity. This list is how the final set of four short stanzas emerged, using brevity to paint pictures of how birds may appear to watchers, and alliteration to suggest the sound of birdsong. I view these final stanzas as the area of openness that I believe a poem needs for a reader to place themselves into and experience the heart of the poem.

The poem took about one week to write and was edited periodically throughout the following two months.

Writing notebook, Bird watching, draft

Breaking down the poem

The first two stanzas are where I poke at the idea of fake commonality, especially in the type-A personality driven corporate environment, where one must appear competent, effortless, and charming to be accepted into and climb the ranks. I also attempt to invoke a felt sense of loss as one reads about this type of environment, where everyone is wearing the same costume and singing the same song, instead of bringing harmony and variety into this life space.

Laughs emit in the easy way
we are each supposed to be,
as if the song of the cardinal
and the song of the robin
were not written to harmonize.

Styles of time decree
so here we stand,
one large flock
on the edge of a marsh
dressed in a great blue heron’s plumage.

The next two stanzas are an attempt to lightly brush stroke the particular personality traits we might assume a great blue heron holds. This stanza declares that the heron and what they stand for are not to be demonized, but celebrated in the way that the world needs these traits and people who have them. There is beauty and value in all people and even though these stanzas portray the traits that many feel they need to put on to get by, it is essential to have members of communities who naturally hold all traits.

Of course, the heron is magnificent,
that is not the question.
The bright orange knife of a beak
and wide set fire kiln eyes,
the sway of the stately neck
soft in wispy fringe,
strength and icy blue of the back
spread into wings of ocean feathers
even a peacock would be proud of.
Beauty but hunter
in one stunning collection.                 

But I am not a heron.
Perhaps only one or none
that converge in this place really are.
Not all of us stand four feet tall
and spread wings six feet tip to tip.

Next, we explore the variety that adds undeniable color to life. There is an individual who appears relatively plain but flashes a hint of spice to the world in subtle ways. There is the dedicated one who endures harsh seasons. There is the prophet who speaks challenging but necessary messages. Finally, there is the one who has difficulty melding into the group dynamics but who can soar in a way that inspires. It is the uniqueness contained in the individual parts of a whole that make each encounter exciting.

In addition, let’s not forget the variety within each of us. None of us are simply one trait or one person. We have multiple parts that need to be acknowledged at different times and in different places, and parts that show up and express themselves in different ways. I can identify with the cardinal, robin, crow, and hawk in some fashion.

Look closely at me
and look closely at you.
There is red hidden in the grey
of the female cardinal’s wings.
Robins even dress in layers
and stay for winter.
Crows caw with wisdom
no one wants to hear.
The hawk may be a loner
but watch the way he climbs in circles
without a beat of his wings.

The closing provides a list of traits that we see in birds with an alliteration meant to mimic birdsong. If a reader was pulled into the poem through the preceding stanzas, this is where they are sent back into themself to feel what they are experiencing as these words float into the sky. This ending raises some questions for me.

Where do I pretend and in doing so, harm myself?

Where do I feel natural and how can I go there more often?

How can I more readily identify the beauty in each person I encounter and bring our ways of being into harmony?

Flutter, flitter,
float, fly.

Bright, brilliant,
pensive, prayerful.

Cling, crowd,
stand, soar.

Open and free.
Evermore.

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Final thought

The final stanza, Open and free. // Evermore. moves me to consider the constraints I see in my life. It leaves me with an ability to identify what are real constraints imposed on me by society, and to bravely call out constraints that I have imposed on myself. I am fortunate and find that most felt constraints are mostly only what my mind is whispering in my ear. Certainly, this is different for each person, for our place and status in life provide a level of what we can do with our efforts and time, and we all have some level of necessities such as paying bills, caring for loved ones, or meeting other obligations. Even while entertaining these necessities, I find that the level of freedom to be who I am and to operate within the world in a way that excites me is greater than I typically acknowledge. So today, let’s set aside our self-imposed constraints and allow ourselves to exist just the way we are led to.

May you sing a beautiful solo and harmonize with those you meet.

Brian

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If you missed the “A Poem” post of Bird watching, I hope you will read and enjoy! You can find it here.

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