The Osprey and the Parrot

I say goodbye to Shanti the African Grey Parrot, assure him that I’ll be back soon, and head out for a walk at Lake Casitas.

Although Shanti is a wild creature, we have a relationship of habits, expectations, memories and routines. We are always on each other’s mind; we enjoy each other’s company; we remember and anticipate. Shanti knows me like he knows no other being; and I know him like I’ve known no other bird. He is an undomesticated animal, but ours is a domesticated, familial relationship—-a mix of human and bird traditions, human and bird love.

A relationship with a unknown wild creature in its natural habitat, however, is very different.

Every few days I have been visiting an osprey who perches high in a dead oak above the lake. Osprey are diurnal raptors. They mate for life, and they may live 25 years or more.

I see the osprey at a distance of 100 yards, through an open field rounded by woodland. A crow is perched on a lower branch of the oak, and a solitary young doe stands halfway between the osprey and me. There is a quick and silent communion of contemplation among the deer, the crow, the osprey and the person. A twig may break at any moment, and all three wild creatures will vanish, leaving the bemused human to his loneliness, his schemes and his mental perturbations.

I meet the osprey’s gaze. I know that afterwards I will reflect on our delicate and stunning field of awareness, and I know the osprey will not. She is a fisher, supremely unconcerned with the lives of crow, deer and people. She is undistracted by my presence, yet not oblivious to the bridge of white light between raptor and person.

There’s a palpable bond of awareness between us that feels to me like love and wonder. It must feel like something to the osprey too. But what? A quality of sentience unstored in memory, pure of all reflection, perhaps indistinguishable from that sense of love and wonder, perhaps its essence.

How And Why Shanti Came Into My Life

I’ve always been fascinated by the beauty of birds. Penguins or pigeons, herons, woodpeckers, hummingbirds or coots, I love them all. They bring me joy, often suddenly and unexpectedly. Birds are among life’s greatest gifts of healing, restoration and peace. They reward contemplation with healing, restoration, peace and awe.

I’m also a lifelong student of languages; I’ve always earned my living with words--as a teacher, a writer and a translator. And I’m a passionate student of philosophy.

An avid birder, a linguist and an amateur philosopher? You might think the confluence of these passions would make me the perfect match for an African Grey parrot—an extraordinarily intelligent and emotive bird that has surprisingly advanced linguistic capabilities.

But I won’t kid you (or myself.) I didn’t bring this Congo African Grey (Psittacus erithacus) into our home because birds are beautiful, parrots talk, and I’m interested in philosophy. I got Shanti because of my own emotional needs. I’m 61, my two daughters are grown up, I've retired from classroom teaching career, and I miss nurturing the young. My wife and I want grandchildren someday, but in the meantime, I spend a lot of time at home alone during the day. I’m lonely.

Living with a companion animal is something I need spiritually and emotionally, but I am also committed to Shanti's physical, emotional and spiritual needs.

Shanti isn't a pet, and he isn't a surrogate human. He's a fellow being. I'm part of his flock, and he's part of mine.