Photography by Regina Whiteside
During quarantine, a lot of my friends have discovered bird nests around their homes. Nestled in wreaths, plants and trees, these nests have received more attention than ever because we finally have the time to notice them. I don’t think that’s a coincidence; I think it’s Mother Nature doing what she does best — making a point.
There’s nothing more hopeful than new life, and right now we need hope more than ever. Once I realized my friends were posting daily pictures of their respective nests, I found myself looking for updates. How were the birds? Had they hatched? Was their mother feeding them properly? (Of course she was.) Had they begun flirting with flying yet? Did they all make it?
As the first week of North Carolina’s phase 1 reopening comes to a close, I feel like a baby bird. I’m comfortable in my nest, yet eager to go out and see the world. I love having food delivered, but realize I need to cook for myself. I think I know how to fly, but I’m not sure if I can do it. I thought I would feel better once some of the restrictions were lifted, but I feel more insecure than ever.
When I go out, I wear my mask and wipe my hands down like crazy with sanitizer, wondering if this is how I’ll have to go out into the world from now on. (Remember when we didn’t have to take our shoes off before flying?) I just want to go back to my nest.
When I start dreaming about having a real schedule that involves other people, I receive an e-mail that yet another event or camp has been cancelled. Back to my nest I go.
When I think that people might be able to go to work and salvage their jobs, I hear of layoffs and furloughs. The nest is where I want to be.
It’s easy to want to stay where you’re safe and secure. My nest is filled with the people (and cats) that I love and plenty of food. A part of me would love to stay here forever, but we’re approaching the point where we need to be brave if we’re going to rebuild our world. We need to be brave and smart, and it wouldn’t hurt if we threw in a dash of understanding.
Last night while running an errand, I was driving slower than usual because I haven’t been driving much lately, and I’m terrified of having an accident. Suddenly, an SUV revved its engine as it passed me in an angry, borderline dangerous manner. I didn’t know the driver. I just know that he or she was impatient. I understand that we’re all impatient these days, but the growl of that engine infuriated me. In that moment, I almost let the hope that I have for our new normal go, but I held onto it because I realized that our normals don’t have to be the same.
That driver can be angry and mad that the world isn’t the way they want it to be. They can let their frustration out and speed on in front of me, but I refuse to do that. I’m not going to throw away the chance of building a better and simpler life. Mother Nature would be so disappointed in me if I did that, and I can’t let her down.
So yes, I blew my horn at the SUV driver and I think I also yelled some expletives, but then I continued to drive slowly because I wasn’t in a hurry. I was finally getting the hang of flying, and knowing that my nest was waiting for me gave me the courage to keep going.