Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I love when the sun comes through the trees in the morning. This is the view out of my window to the garden and my son´s house. Especially after my dark nights - filled with all kinds of fears burning always down to the one that Freud claimed was behind all other fears: the Fear of Death - when the sun greets me like this, all the night shadows dissolve into nothing. This time of the year they dissolve into birdsong.

    Colorful birds from the North visit us. We feed them with tortillas and rice and bread crumbs.

    Even though it is cold these mornings, sometimes after nightfrost, I often go outside and smell the smell of the grass and the earth and whatever else mingles into the refreshing morning - mix.

    Today I put some bread crumbs on the plate for the birds and a strange new bird sat there and would not move away. I had never before seen this bird and never ever a bird had stayed calmly right on the stone plate when I approached to fill it with bird - delicacies.

    I did not know what to think. The bird was dark brown and neither small nor big. It eyed me. I stood still, very still, the bread crumbs in my hands. I looked at the bird.

    " All night long I suffered and turned and sweat and wondered if this life was worth living and now you strange bird behave as if we were in a fairytale!" I thought.

    Right then the bird whistled. It was a strange sound, one I had never heard before.

    It was a call. I knew it: this bird called out to ME!

    It opened its reddish beak and put its head in an angle as if listening to me.

    What could I say? I have never learnt to whistle.

    "Give me your fears!" A voice in my head thought. My voice? The bird´s voice? Whose voice was this?

    " I guess, I am afraid to die..." I whispered.

    I watched the bird snap and swallow my phrase and immediately I felt the sun warming my skin and the last night seemed to have receded to another galaxy.

    I was flabberghasted. What was this? Was I going nuts?

    There the bird flew right on my hand, picked some crumbs and flew off into the sun.

    Who the heck was this bird?
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.