Allow me to go a little Wagnerian this time (unfortunately I can't put opera music to go with this blog. Which is good since "Here comes the bride" is somehow quite inappropriate with my story). Anyway, here goes....
Mist swirled at our feet as we approached the grove of trees. The faint murmur of human voices floated in the dawning morn. Squinting, we could barely perceive the shape of an armed man standing viligilantly. But the voices we heard were that of more than one person. Slowly, silently we drew near, all the while tightly gripping our weapons. Daylight broke through the leaves and revealed the sources of the mutterings. Standing as if on guard was Alain, while resting on the side were Maia and Jops. Friends. People of the same mind and purpose, we heartily greeted them. It wasn't long when to our gladness came also Bong and the two Jun Os (Osano and Obilde).
Pleasantries were shared all around. The excitement was quite palpable. I asked my partner, Gabs, to come with me and wander to yonder grounds where our quest had been recently observed. Jops and Maia tagged along since this would be the first time, if ever, that they would encounter this creature. We all tarried in rapt anticipation until Jops in wild jubilation pointed at the tree before us and uttered the name of the reason for our being here: Blue Rock Thrush!
Sighs of relief and admiration mingled with the sound of shutters clicking as the rest of the group joined us in capturing the image of this lovely bird. Moments flew quickly and I realized I must take leave. Spousal duties I must fulfill thus I bade adieu to my enchanted colleagues begging them to notify me if and when the other mythical winged being should materialize before their very eyes.
Hours passed as I looked at the images of the blue thrush that I had taken and pondered whether those whom I left behind have been blessed with luck and sighted the other, more intriguing, avian visitor of that mystic place. It was then that I saw a post in the book of faces that Jun Osano had seen green. Hastily I communicated with my partner Gabs who confirmed that it was so.
In a flash, I was at the grove of trees where Bong remained waiting for my arrival and to assure me that the bird I came rushing for was still there. It was just him and Mark, another questor, that remained on guard. As I came barging in both of them lifted their heads and pointed to the branch of a fruiting tree swaying gayfully in the wind. "Pink-necked Green Pigeon" they uttered almost reverently. Satisfied that he had done his duty, Bong departed from the scene. It wasn't long when pangs of hunger stirred within me. I looked at Mark who vowed to stay so that late arriving kindred spirits may be led to the virescent bird resting amid the verdant leaves and red berries. I left in profound silence.
Later that day as I reminisced of what transpired that morning, I smiled. If I were to describe those fortuitous events in three words, it would be "Blue and Green".
The Belted Piping Plover – Vol II # 5
18 hours ago