MAGPIE TALE: Two Birds

Another Magpie Tale

Two birds came to him that morning as he strolled into the garden in his robe. His beard, that robe and modest sandals made many think he was a priest. But he was a mere bank teller at a branch on the west side.

He cherished his moments in the garden, usually going there just after rising and enjoying a cup of oolong tea. He much preferred oolong to herbal infusion or the dreaded chamomile. For a certain percentage of the population, chamomile is a soothing, relaxing herb. For him and many others, is a toxic irritant since it is in essence ragweed, and when in tea form is like ingesting that wretched weed into the bloodstream. Any time he drank chamomile he had restless nights with his heart racing, his lungs feeling swollen and his chest tight. He caused not only sleepless nights but delusional ones.

Oolong by contrast soothed and cleansed him, making him feel at one with nature. It was because of that he lately found bird choosing to perch on his hands. Even without a lure of seeds or other gifts, they seemed at one with him. With time he would offer them pieces of straw. His hand would become a virtual lumberyard for bird construction as each morning he found communion with them before he went off to work to process loans.