The Caged Bird

I read a story once about a caged bird; the sad metaphorical one. I am sure you know it; about the woman who loves a bird so much that she decides to keep it in a cage for too long - and the bird can’t live without flying – and so it dies. It’s a wonderful story when you are the bird, and not the woman. Nobody wants to be that woman; and everyone wants to be the bird that is set free.

I imagine the story the other way around…the one where she lets the bird go, and then stares at the empty cage. She didn’t want to have the cage at all – she would have been happy to just keep the window open; yet, she needed some place to put the food and water, and with the window open all the time, there were days that it made her really cold. There were days when the bird seemed to enjoy fluttering around in there, she thought. It seemed quite cozy, and the door of the cage was never actually shut. She looks at the open door that she has placed in the open window, as she goes about doing all the things that still need doing.

She has visitors, and entertains guests. She goes out for lengthy periods of time, not having to return to care for the bird anymore. Yet, every time she comes home – there is a bit of an ache in her chest when she notices that the cage is still empty, and the bird is still gone. She wonders what it is doing out there; if it is happier, or misses her at all; if it will simply find another open window somewhere, to a place that is far better. She starts to question whether or not she had been able to offer it enough – or if it had stayed with her for even that long, only because she had been a really nice lady, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

The bird could have no idea how much she enjoyed listening to his song, and looking at his brightly colored feathers, and laughing when he would seem to engage her in play. Even when they were just quiet together, she seemed to feel more peaceful when he was around. The bird had no idea how much she enjoyed the fact that when she had to go out for a while, that the bird never complained - flying about in a tantrum, and knocking things over. He was good bird, and she adored him. She missed these days, and at night when she could not hear the bird moving around inside, the quietness reminded her that he was still gone.

Days pass and the nights started to get a little easier, but she is restless and still anxious for a sign that he may return. She imagines that if he were to fly by, that she would tell him that it was ok to go again – he didn’t have to come back forever, and that she hadn’t meant to cage him at all. She wonders if maybe she were to just leave a little food on the window sill, he might be enticed to come back again. She decided to try it, but the wind was strong and blew the food around, making a mess.

Perhaps she should just go out and get a new bird, she thought. Perhaps that would make her feel better. There were always a lot of them outside her kitchen window…peeking and pecking at the apple tree there. And the more that she thought of enticing a new bird into her home, she kept remembering more about the one that she missed. Eventually, she thought, if the bird is gone for too long, she may just decide to get a cat. But she feels ashamed of being mad at the bird, and sadness overwhelms her. It wasn’t the bird’s fault for not wanting to stay, or was it her’s…it just wasn’t a home that he wanted to stay for very long she supposed.

I don’t know how the story ends. I don’t know if the bird returns one day to find the window shut, and the woman no longer there; or if one day he flies by, and notices another bird, sitting inside that shiny metal with the door slightly ajar; singing to the woman, and making her happy.

I suppose there is always a chance that the bird does come back to find the woman who was able to provide him with the freedom to go, and the ability to stay for as long as he chose. Perhaps because he enjoyed the way that she hummed along when he sang, in a way that was slightly different than with others, or maybe there was something else about her, or her home, that he wanted to experience again. Maybe she would be overjoyed to see him again, and he could fly to her outstretched fingers, and nestle again into the warmth of her hands.

I guess…that is just another story.