The Bird in the Tree

Sorry about the no posts, I'v been busy with a new knitting pattern the last week, so I haven't had much time to blog. For those of you wondering, it will be published here, on my blog, and on Ravelry before the end of February.

Anyways, back to the reason I am writing this post. Yesterday, my mother and I went to a church service my grandmother (a chaplain) gives at a retirement home. My mother typically plays piano to accompany the hymns. I sat beside her, with my back to the birdcage. The birdcage holds a non-descript budgie, in blue.

The interesting thing about this whole story, is that every time the piano started making noise and the people singing, the budgie, who is normally quiet (I don't think I have heard him speak two cheeps in a row), he would start to do his own version of the hymn, mostly in squawks and cheeps. The high pitch kind. You might think that is cute, but you weren't the one sitting right in front of the cage with a bird squeaking into supersonic! (that was a reference to Johnny English just there!)

This was terribly annoying me, so I started to throw dirty looks over my shoulder at the bird, who of course payed no attention. The weird part was that nobody else was noticing the bird.

Then it occurred to me to notice when the bird was making noise, if there was a pattern. There was. Every time we made noise, he made noise. Mostly, when we were making noise was when we were singing.

Thus, it is my opinion that the budgie was doing his own kind of praising God. Unfortunately it was the annoying kind.

I think after a while he got bored with our kind of singing, and so he started to break the mold. Every so often, he would inject a momentous squawk, quite unlike the others. Turning around to look, I saw a mirror that hung from the bars above him. Every so often, it swung around to him, and he seeing himself in the mirror, would give the tremendous squawk, which I'm guessing was something like, "Hah! I caught you!".

Again, the weird part was that nobody was noticing it but me. And my grandmother. I think she had a mental complex trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.

-Sarah
The bird woman

P.S. My mum just saw a Menonite family at Value Village, where the boy, probably 19, was very interested in a book the Harlequin Romance section. Weird?