"Who names the birds?" It was one of her perennial questions, and he was used to it now, 25 years into what was already a long marriage, long in the sense of enduring. You make it sound like a punishment, she had said more than once when he bragged (his word) about their years together.
The daily Audubon calendar inspired unusually frequent conversations about the proliferation of birds in the world.
"King Penguins today," she said with a familiar incredulity coating each word. "Not Queen Penguin, Empress Penguin, no, it's KING Penguin... apparently for both genders."
Her ability to speak in capital letters always impressed him. How did she do it? Well, he'd never ask, but he did wonder.
She tore the page off the calendar and held it up to the light--four stately birds--flightless birds, she would point out if he called them birds--how can they be birds if they can't fly? It was a logical question, one with an answer no doubt, but he didn't have time to google it.
The penguins were beautiful, photographed against a startling blue sky, all four of them stately creatures with heads held high, looking as majestic, as royal as any head of state he'd ever seen (which, of course, was none, at least none in person, but that was beside the point as he considered his response).
"Penguins are a miracle of creation," he began.
"Yes?" the sceptic said.
"As are you, as, even, am I. All of us alive, breathing, walking, talking..."
"...on this miraculous planet..."
"...we call Earth," he said, just as the coffee was ready and the thump of the morning paper hit their door.
Trump's return to world stage jolts global climate talks
"Poor penguins," they said in unison.
Your response was much calmer than mine, tho penguins are certainly among the creatures about which I worry. Jerri
ReplyDeleteAnother slice of life. Love her talking in capital letters. Unfortunately, these conversations are happening in households across the world. ☹️
ReplyDeletePerfect and sad.
ReplyDelete