It’s time to grow up a little. Just a bit at a time, but that’s what happens with growing. We mostly don’t realize our progress except in hindsight.
Some kinds of growth are scary, and involve a degree of risk. We’ve had a front seat on that lately, and I’m sure it’s easier watching from the sidelines than for the entities involved.
The window by our kitchen table looks out on front yard bird feeders. One day we noticed a fledgling blackbird scrambling around in the grass. It had evidently experienced its first solo flight and felt a little discombobulated. Several adult birds were pecking at seeds that had fallen on the ground, but one, probably the mama, was feeding the youngster. She would choose a seed, hop over and deposit it in an open mouth. About every tenth time she ate one herself, but most went to the kiddo, who didn’t seem to care for the waiting. We watched for quite a while but missed the fly off so, hopefully, everyone escaped before a cat discovered what was going on. Didn’t see any feathers on the patio so the flight lesson must have been successful.
I keep thinking mama cat will wean the three little kittens; they are certainly old enough, and she’s around less. But occasionally she gives in and lies down so they can have a snack. The last time there were feathers around one of the youngsters was licking his chops, and mama brings them a gopher whenever she can keep Ruby from stealing it. One of the kittens sits on a table on the deck and eyes a barn swallow nest under the eaves but she’s not big enough to climb that high, and there’s always a contingent of adult birds that dive bomb and screech at the feline, or any of us who decide to sit on the deck. It must have been a late hatch because last week I counted four wide mouths peeking over the edge. It’ll be several weeks before they find their wings.
Summer is half over when the fourth of July has passed. It’s a short season for youngsters to get their bearings before venturing out on their own, and for adults to get used to the notion of having to let go. Growing up is hard, whether you are the parent or the offspring. Summer jobs will be ending in another few weeks, and this year’s crop of graduates will be off to explore college or careers. Maybe some of them will have decided to pursue another path, transfer to another school, or choose to work in a different setting.
It’s difficult for parents to watch mistakes being made and let the learning begin. Every year I have greater admiration for my parents, who kept still and didn’t let me see them shaking their heads and wringing their hands at some of the silly paths I chose to pursue. They let me learn the hard way sometimes, but I always knew they were in the wings ready to keep me from total disaster. Kind of like the mama cat, who seems to know that transition needs to include moments of comfort, and a chance to catch one’s breath before going out on a limb.
Meet me here next week and meanwhile, do your best. Somebody might like it.