Last minute grooming
He arrives first, looking around, watching for her arrival. He is a disreputable, scruffy looking article, unkempt and ungainly. He reminds me of some of my sons’ teenage forays into the more regrettable fashions. His feathers seem glued into place… the wrong place… refusing to be smoothed no matter how he tries. And try he does, but to no avail.
She flies in silently and watches from the next branch. This is no first date…she watches his efforts to make himself presentable too tenderly, with too much indulgence in her smile. Beaks should not be able to smile, but hers does. She meets my eye and we share a moment of feminine undestanding. ‘Love sees only beauty,’ she seems to say.