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9 Jun 2008 8:34 AM

When the swallows returned for their nightly forage, and after all the greenery was in place, Ron took the shoebox out onto the balcony and lifted the towel.  The bird was alert, quickly ruffled its flight feathers, and joined the other birds in the nightly hunt.  Ron watched his little patient as long as he could, her quick spins and spirals taking her around the corner of the unit and out of sight.
      The extra greenery added to Ron's daily routine, a task that he found most enjoyable.  Every evening he would tend the plants, watering and trimming, and generally admiring his handiwork. 

It was on one of these evenings that Ron noticed the beginnings of a mud nest high up in a corner of the balcony.  It wasn't too long before a swallow flew in to add to this construction, and Ron naturally knew, or at least accepted that it was the swallow that he had attended to a few days earlier.
      "You are welcome, madam", he offered, "Just remember, no late night parties".  The old man chuckled at his own humour.
       Placing news paper on the balcony floor to catch the droppings that he knew would abound, he and his new tenant prepared for nature to take it's course. He tried to leave the swallow pretty much to itself, except for one particular indulgence, he named the swallow Little Beth.
      The nest completed, Little Beth began attending her two eggs, well protected form the elements and any predator, and unknowingly, bringing much joy to the heart of the sometimes very lonely Ron Wilson.
      Ron's habit of emptying the water from the electric kettle into the pot plants soon drew the attention of the swallow.  Often the water was still warm from a previous cup of tea, but for some reason Ron never re-boiled water, preferring to use fresh each time.  The old man could not help but laugh at seeing Little Beth awkwardly splashing in the dish below the pot plants as the warm water seeped through.
      Ron rummaged through the pots and pans in the kitchen cupboard until he found a shallow dish which he added water from the tap.  He placed the dish in a convenient place on the balcony, satisfied that he was being the good provider for his new friend.  Little Beth flew to the dish, had a quick drink, and went to the warmer water of the pot to bathe.
      "Well I'll be!" Ron commented aloud, "You are a funny thing"
      Ron took the dish back to the kitchen and topped it up with warm water from the tap.  It was only a matter of seconds, as Little Beth watched her kindly landlord, that she flew to the dish, and finding it to her liking, splashed to her hearts content.  This was added to Ron"s daily routine, and he obtained much enjoyment as he told David and Petrina of his new found friend, and of the fact that he had named the two, newly hatched babies, David and Petrina.  Petrina's squeals of delight almost making Ron wish he hadn't.
      Against his better judgment, Ron would purchase a few mealworms from the Pet Shop as he went on his daily walks.  He knew that the bird should be encouraged to fend for herself, but the worms gave him an added purpose for his trip to the shops, and Ron was always encouraged when Little Beth would take to the sky whenever the insects were abundant.
     
The mealworms were a treat for Little Beth, and her trust in the old man increased to the extent where she would fly to his hand to twitter, and pick at the offering.
      The days passed, the young had flown to make a life of their own, but to Ron's delight Little Beth returned each evening to partake of the offered mealworms, and during the day to splash in the bath that Ron would have prepared for her.  The mud nest deteriorated through lack of maintenance, and eventually fell to the concrete floor to shatter to a thousand pieces.  This event made Ron a little uncomfortable for some reason.
      On one evening, as Ron waited, sitting in an easy chair on the balcony, he felt that Little Beth was late.  She had not come for her bath during the afternoon as far as he could tell, and he tried shrugging off the unease that he now felt.  It would soon be time for the phone call from Suzanne, and Ron was thinking about this as Little Beth flew in and landed on his lap.  Ron noticed with some alarm that the mealworms did not seem to interest Little Beth this evening.  He gently lifted her with his, still work roughened hands,  'Just a little tired from chasing bugs', he tried to assure himself and the bird. Ron found the shoebox again and placed Little Beth inside. 

        "You will be all right in the morning, girl", he whispered as he placed her behind the lounge chair in the unit.
      Ron checked the bird twice as he tried to eat supper, a meal that he could not enjoy, and he pushed it aside to again check on Little Beth.
      The phone rang, it startled the old man, who was now dealing with the grief of finding Little Beth lifeless in the box on the last look, her short swallow's life had ended.
      "How are you daddy?" Suzanne spoke.
      "Little Beth is gone".  Ron's voice sounded very old and very tired.
      "Are you all right daddy?" Suzanne was concerned.panic starting ti rise in her.
      "Little Beth is dead", Ron whispered into the phone.
      "I'm coming over dad, wait for me, I won't be long".
      Ron replaced the receiver and flopped into a lounge chair.  When Suzanne let Phillip and herself into the apartment this is where she found her father, Little Beth in his lap, nestled into his open hand, resting, just as her human friend was now, also resting.
      Suzanne checked her father, but she knew that he was no longer with her, he looked at peace with himself now that he had completed life's journey.  She turned to Phillip, seeing the tears on his cheek, and they held each other in silence.
     

Later, when Suzanne could bring herself to gather her parents things together, things that were exclusively her parents possessions, and so much a part of her life as well, she felt sorrow for all the things that had never been said to her father, how she could have told him how much she loved him, more often, Just as she had felt when her mother had passed on.  She held the bedside photo of her smiling mother, and let the tears flow down her cheeks.  As she turned the photo frame in her hands she noticed the had written words that lifted her, gave her great comfort in her grieving, and filled he with a renewed love for her darling father.




Wait for me Elizabeth,
I'll come to you once more.
I send my love on swallow's wings,
For they are swift and sure.

'Tis soon we'll sit hand in hand
Or walk beside the streams.
'Til then, my love, I have your smile
And your company in my dreams.
      ooooOOOoooo             

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