After my initial encounter with the sunbirds, I had the good fortune of viewing many more species of birds on a walk I made around my neighbourhood. First there were the elusive silhouettes of swifts winging high overhead, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. It took some walking before I suddenly spotted this spotted dove making its way about its daily business. With its drab brown feathers, it would have melted seamlessly into the pavement had I not noticed its sudden burst of frantic, bobbing movement. Though the signature owl-like hoots of its fellows could be heard in the distance, this dove seemed to be travelling alone. So often have I seen these birds foraging in pairs, serene and secure in each other’s company, that seeing one on its own seemed a little unnerving. Nevertheless, the sight of these peaceful animals never fails to bring me a certain measure of calmness.
Doves were another animal I had not seen in a very long time around the neigbourhood. The periodic appearance and disappearance of certain species of birds from the area I live in sometimes makes me think that my sightings of them must have symbolic significance. There are days where I gain much comfort from thinking on the symbolism of the wild animals I happen to stumble upon. While in the West doves are often associated with peace and love, they are symbols of fidelity and longevity in Chinese symbology – so much so that the staff that is typically presented to a septuagenarian in Chinese custom is known as a ‘dove-staff’. Either way, the dove is typically known for being a gentle, nurturing animal. In the light of the New Year, I thought, perhaps it was offering me a positive symbol of hope.
Another shape suddenly zipped past me, up into the canopy of a nearby tree. I craned my camera up to look, and immediately felt a shiver of joy. It was an Oriental magpie-robin: a species that has happily been brought back from the brink of extinction on the island. This one was a male, judging from his bolder plumage. He stopped barely long enough for me to take a picture before flying off again, landing on the edge of the roof of a nearby house and surveying his surroundings with a gutsy pride. As distinctive as this species might be (not being related very closely to either robins or magpies), it is not commonly found in any lexicon of cultural symbology. Given its remarkable jump back from the brink, I’d like to think that seeing one could be a reminder of persistence, and the promise that things will get better even as they seem to get worse.
Regardless of whether the appearance of different birds has any special meaning, I feel like there are still simple messages we can derive from Nature. It could be something as paradoxically simple and prosaic as just enjoying the time we have in the present. These birds live in the moment, never worrying much about their past or future, content to take things one day at a time. Perhaps it would be worth it to slow down once in a while, and listen carefully to the birdsong around us that is hidden in plain sight.