A recent episode of the new All
Creatures Great and Small took me back to my childhood. The story included a
blue budgerigar, left at the vet’s surgery for minor treatment, to be collected
later by the owner, a blind lady. Spoiler alert – skip the rest of this
paragraph if you don’t want to know what happens. Sadly, the budgie chooses this
excursion to fall off his ornithological perch, expired. Rather than give the
lady bad news, the vet decides to replace her pet with another and is sure she
won’t know the new budgie is a green one. The small detail of the blue one
never singing and the green one being very chirpy was overlooked, otherwise all
was well in the end.
One day when I was a young child, I came
home from school to find a new addition to the family. In the sitting room, in a
cage hooked on to one of those bird-stands, a pretty, pale blue budgerigar was
tutting to its reflection in its own vanity mirror, head going side to side. I
was in awe, it was so sweet and I loved it straight away. We named him Billy.
My dad took charge of his care but showed me how to top up Billy’s seeds, give
him fresh water and wedge a piece of cuttlefish shell between the bars of the
cage to rub his beak on. I was thrilled to have another pet. We had a dog that
liked his own company and a cat that was always pregnant or nursing kittens, so
it was better to leave her alone. I could stand and talk to Billy, tell him
about school and how I was doing. I was shocked to go to the cage after school
one day and find a green budgie. My dad told me Billy had matured. He said all
budgies started off blue and turned green into adulthood. Of course, I believed
him I had no reason not to. Many years later the truth came out. Bless him for
saving my tears. I have read that some types of budgies do change colour as
their feathers are replaced, but this tends to be a shade darker, or a mix.
Lovely Billy, blue or green, long gone
but remembered with fondness and All Creatures Great and Small gave me a happy
memory.
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
Thanks for reading, Pam x
