Bohemian Avenue #14

I stood ankle deep in Minnehaha Creek along a sandy portion of the bank watching my sparrow girl splash water over herself. She had been delighted to be named Fern at my suggestion. I'm not sure why, but Fern seemed to occur to me automatically.

We had been walking the creek for at least an hour together. She would revert back to bird form once in a while to settle briefly in a tree or to poke around in some grass. At other moments she would gingerly take my hand and walk with me in her girl's form. Though neither of these changes seemed to last long, I thought perhaps she wanted to feel close to me. I confess I have become quite fond of her since our first meeting.

I heard her singing again this morning through the open windows. She doesn't visit me every day, but quite often, and hearing her this morning drew me to invite her to visit Minnehaha Falls and walk the creek to where it emptied into the Mississippi River. She smiled and told me she knew the place and said a little cryptically, “I'll show it to you, too.” I chalked up what she said as one of her cute little ways that made me smile, but I was in for a surprise!

As we walked toward where the creek emptied into the river, there were ledges of sandstone. Many people had carved their names and other words and images into the rock faces. At a point where the cliff seemed about forty feet up from the creek bank, there were wooden stairs to take you up into a more landscaped part of the park and within view of a Minneapolis residential area. It was here that Fern flew half way up the stairs and turned to urge me to follow.

At the top of the stairs, I found her standing at the edge of the cliff near the stairs. She held her hand over the expanse, turned to me and said, “Here is the way to another place--my home. Jump and come with me.”

“What? You know I can't fly.” I was standing next to her feeling my stomach clench as I considered the height.

Fern smiled and took my hand turning me away from the view. “Not fly, jump!”

“I could die jumping from here!” I suspected all my experiences with Fern had become a delusion and I was going to prove it by jumping to my death as soon as my delusion convinced what was left of my sanity.

She took several strides back from me “You won't die. Catch me!”

Before I realized, she had jumped into my arms. She was not heavy, but her momentum had pushed me back. I knew I was falling, but I couldn't believe how fast. It was taking too long and felt like the suspended rush of coming down the initial descent of a roller coaster. “I'll wake up in Heaven,” I thought, “if I don't crush this little girl in my arms from sheer terror…”

The minute I first saw you
Your smile, your eyes
Your inner light like a sunrise
You brought me to life
I had things to show you
I wanted to get to know you
Only to let me fall
A picture could tell
After years, how hard I fell

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Thought my heart would break in two
The day you went away
It's funny how you were the man and child
I needed most to stay

In a sea of days passing
I still see your smile
Lost, alone, in an inner heart's dreaming
I sit with you awhile

Pardon me,
I want to hold the child in my arms tonight
You helped me see
The face of God in a brand new light

Bohemian Avenue #13

When I came to the door this morning to let in some fresh air, I was greeted with a lovely melody. A young girl's voice was humming and articulating the notes to something I hadn't heard before. My sparrow girl was already sitting in one of the lawn chairs I had set up with a TV tray between them. I watched her singing as she swung her legs.


I took the moment to take a good look at her, because it was hard to believe she was real at times. She was petite and well formed with straight brown hair that barely reached her shoulders. Her skin was tanned and almost blended with the cotton shorts she wore and made her t-shirt look very white. She was barefoot and picked at tufts of the grass with her toes. When she noticed me at the door, she stopped singing.


"I'll be right out with breakfast," I called.


She stood as I came out with a pot of tea and two teacups on a tray with a plate of toast with butter and other things.


"Hi," she said.


That was the first time I had heard her speak. I was a little surprised, but pleasantly so.


I poured her a cup of tea. She put her mouth to the lip of the cup and pulled back almost spilling.


"Yes, it's hot. I sometimes blow on my tea to cool it off a little," I offered.


She blew on her tea driving a few drops over the lip on the opposite side. I smiled and lightly laughed. She met my eyes and smiled.


I put peanut butter on a piece of toast and gave it to her. Putting her teacup down, she took it in both hands and took a tiny bite. She immediately took a bigger one.


Our breakfast tea was underway. We ate toast and drank our tea. She drank hers carefully even though it had cooled. She seemed to be thinking intently. When she sprang up, I didn't know what to think. I hoped she wasn't leaving, but she had gone to the bird feeder and was putting millet on her peanut butter toast. She seemed pleased with the result.


I laughed as she returned with her toast speckled with the seed. Her eyes were shining as she gave me a shy little smile. When she was seated again, I said, "I liked your singing."


She hummed a little in reply. After a moment when she had swallowed another sip of tea, she told me how she watched a little girl dress her cat in doll's clothes and received a scratch for her trouble.


I said I thought the girl was a little cruel to the cat, but she said the cat deserved the humiliation for all the trouble she gives the neighborhood birds.


Our conversation continued for almost an hour until she said, "Goodbye, sir" and was gone in the familiar flutter of feathers.


The sunlight seemed to fade somehow. The moment had a slight feel of loneliness, but we had shared a lovely breakfast together. That was my memory to savor.


My sparrow girl is real isn't she?


I need her to be.

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