Iris's Empty Nest

The day wasn’t turning out like she’d planned, but Iris still managed to grab a juicy grasshopper from a nearby scrappy weed patch and fly it home for lunch. Today was the big day, though big in the sense that the kids were fledging for good, and Iris was filled with the giant emotion of impending loss. The egret nest would be empty by dinner, and there was nothing big and wonderful about that. At least not for Iris.

With everyone fed and happy in the nest, Iris decided she’d fly over for a quick check-in with Betty, her trusted pal, to see if she could glean any words of wisdom from her stalwart buffalo companion. Out on the savanna, Betty could always see Iris coming long before she arrived. The white of Iris’s feathers caught the sunlight and created a blaring announcement in the sky:

Iris! Incoming!

Betty usually shuffled her hooves and situated her neck so that the landing for her friend would be extra cushy, if nothing else, to further this fine relationship which was an insecticide boon for the appreciative buffalo. Iris ate whatever was a pure irritation for Betty. It was a fabulous arrangement.

“Hey, girl!” Betty called up to the area above her shoulders as soon as Iris landed.

“Hey, Betty,” the bird said, catching her breath and settling in. After a pause, the egret opened her reason for the visit. “My friend, I really need you right now.”

Betty glanced down at her four chunky toes, two per hoof. Uh-oh. What does that mean?

“What’s going on, love?”

Iris sighed, then inched her body closer to the edge of Betty’s head and lowered her somber face to look her friend square in the eyes. “My kids are leaving today.”

Betty knew this day had been approaching, and here it was. This was her friend’s worst day of the year, and it happened at the same time every year like clockwork, as with anything in either of their lives. This was the normal course of events for the egret, but that fact never softened Iris’s disconsolate reception of it.

“Aw honey,” Betty offered, trying to lighten the tone of her voice, “Should we do a little retail therapy?” This meant strolling together, bird atop buffalo, and window shopping along the main drag of town in the hopes of creating a diversion for the soon-to-be empty nester.

“I don’t know,” Iris replied, looking over at the other buffalo nearby; calves milking, mothers standing dutifully. “That helps for the interim, but after that, it’s back to facing the emptiness, this shift in life. I need something extra this time.”

Betty stood there with nothing to suggest. They’d always just gone shopping, or had sweets together, or one time waded in the water hole. Those things had lifted Iris’s spirits in the past, but Betty hadn’t realized until now that perhaps her friend needed a new approach. What to do?

Betty put her mind to coming up with a better solution. “Think think,” she told herself. They stayed there like that for a little while--Iris parked on the buffalo’s head, waiting for her pal to figure things out; Betty staring at her toes, searching her brain for any new idea. Nothing was coming forth and Betty felt dumb as an ox, which no buffalo ever wants to be.

But just as soon as she was about to throw up her hooves and give up, Betty saw something out of the corner of her eye, and she got an idea.

“Come with me,” she called up to her friend, “I want to show you something.”

Up on the crest of a low hill about fifty yards away were two young buffalo walking away from the rest of the group of female buffalo. They were Betty’s friend’s kids, both boys, and were now old enough to move out of the female herd and over to the male herd who were waiting for them in the distance. You could see the adult males holding up signs with their front teeth: Welcome Boys! Balloons were waving in the breeze. There was stomping of hooves and laughter. The two young buffalo were nervously smiling at the party in front of them, but it was obvious from the way they held their horns high above their shoulders that they were excited about all that lay ahead of them.

Betty and Iris watched with wide, happy eyes. This was a ritual that brought joy to the savanna, and each time it happened the animals heaved a sigh of relief and thankfulness. Life was continuing in its grand and dazzling fashion.

Then walking across the field to Iris and Betty’s right came a mother zebra and her daughter. The mother was barking gently into the young zebra’s ear some last-minute pro tips for the life her daughter was about to go off and create. A young male zebra stood patiently within reach, waiting for this mother-daughter dance to complete. All manner of boxes, glittery bags, and floral print suitcases were stacked up onto the daughter’s back for the trip of her life. Her young knees nearly buckled, but the mother caught her by the ribs, and righted her with a knock and a giggle. The two nuzzled snouts together, and if you looked closely, you could see the glint of a tear running slowly down the mother’s long, extravagantly striped nose. The daughter set off away from her mom and joined with the male zebra, and the two walked together in perfect sync, one’s head leaned against the other’s for a long while.

The bird and the buffalo watched with faces melted in a reverie of both longing and adoration. Nature wanted this more than anything.

Iris reached down for a tasty treat crawling along Betty’s shoulder bones. This is when she noticed the bustle of her neighbor’s fledglings taking off from their parents’ nest in the distance. She gasped. The young birds flew up into the sky, circled around the huge egret colony with a new flier’s wavering style, and then flew off out of sight. There they go, she thought.

“I know those kids,” she said to Betty, pointing with the tip of her wing up toward the egrets’ flight path.

“Will you see them again?” Betty asked.

“Probably. But not until next year.” By then, she’ll almost have to meet them brand new. They’ll have seen the world and come back for a nest of their own, a family of their making. The world out there will have shaped them into proper adults. Her neighbors’ children were now tucked away as a memory which one day will hardly be accessible. This notion brought a catch to her throat, but Iris knew it was the cycle of life. As it should be, she thought. She was beginning to get it. Life goes on, and that’s what you want.

Then she suddenly jumped off Betty’s head in a frantic jostle. “Oh! My kids!” she yelled. “They’re about to fly the coop!” The triumphant and difficult moment had arrived. She would send her children off to the sober responsibility of adult life, but tuck one little instruction in their pockets: watch for the magnificence, because it will come. Iris flew up into the wind. Her nest was only minutes away at the edge of this grassy opening that Betty called home. She chirped over her shoulder to her friend, “Thank you, my Betty! I will come tomorrow! Wish me luck!” and she blew a kiss into the air with such precision that it tumbled down to the correct set of shoulders standing on the ground and receding from view.

Betty poked the grass with her hoof. Lots of activity down there, insects, nosey geckos, and the like. She chuckled when she noticed the grasshoppers bandying off each other in a reckless collision. “You guys are renegades,” she snorted. They hopped onto her hide and scrambled up. She looked forward to her friend’s visit sooner than she expected. The world worked together in a fantastic synchrony. In the far horizon, Iris’s kids flapped their way toward some of that. They had a bit of fear in their eyes, but their hearts raced with happy anticipation. Iris stood high on her nest, watching for as long as she could see them. It was a special day across the wide savanna, and even much farther away than that.