The Red Protector
By Brenda Colwell | A Collection of Wanderings
Listen to this Encounter:
There he is! I am sitting outside in my personal biome in Arizona, also known as the East Aviary, when I hear that distinctive tik-tik, and I know he is nearby. Wings flutter deep in the darkness of the thicket of intertwining branches and leaves, and he remains safe behind the camouflage. I can’t make him out. I know he lives in there somewhere, but I have yet to locate the exact address of his wild hideaway, thinking his red plumage would be easier to spot. A few moments later, I hear his distinctive whistle, high, then low, and ending with a pleasant churring. Then Cardinalis cardinalis lands on a branch, mere feet in front of me, answering my wish, and I swoon. This songster, always adorned in flame scarlet, is a favorite of mine and so gratifying to encounter. I really don’t even have to look for him; he just shows up and taps on the door of my soul.
Today, it only takes a moment to recognize that he is not here to address my wishes; he is here to challenge my presence! Electric with excitement, his crest is straight up, his body twitching as he turns his head left, then right, and gives me the bird-degree. A rapid tik-tik; tik-tik, a different message from his earlier love song. He jumps excitedly to the end of a branch at my one o’clock to get a clearer view of me and size me up. Just then, his partner appears: a female cardinal, donning that unmistakable orange beak, lands on a high branch, slightly obscured and keenly attentive to the exchange. After all, she is invested in the outcome; they have fledglings in their future, and the bird-o-logical clock is ticking.
Almost immediately, he takes off across the yard, landing on the tip of a yucca sword at my three o’clock! He delivers a staccato series of additional warnings: tik-tik, tik, tik, TIK-TIK! He is on full alert and stretching out at maximum tension. He pumps his crest and examines me suspiciously from his right eye, “What ARE you and why are you here?” Meanwhile, back in the thicket, his partner flits around nervously in the high branches, agitated and remaining partially hidden, and finds a better view.
He flies straight at me, challenging me, dips acrobatic mid-way, changes direction, and disappears behind me, hidden, his questioning still insistent, but louder. Still pumping out clipped tik-tiks, he suddenly appears in the air at my nine o’clock, returning to the branch where we first met. He has defined his territory by showing me its perimeter and reminding me who is in charge. “Now get out!” he tiks at me. I feel obliged to follow orders, so I move. Seemingly satisfied, he softens his crest and returns to his nest-mate. He gently nuzzles her beak, and she follows him as they disappear into the thicket.
CHOOSE YOUR NEXT WANDER
