Empty Nest Syndrome

A little bird flying in the sky, the pattering of raindrops on her soft feathers inaudible over the thunder noise. She needs to get home, she went too far. Her babies are most likely starving and afraid. Her stomach is full, but [hopefully] won’t be for long. The lightning strikes on her intended path of travel. Her nest?! Everything in her surroundings falls away as she beats her wings, moving her body forward at a speed no mother goes except under conditions of this sort. The bruises beginning to form on her tired wings are far from her conscious mind. Her motherly instinct has overtaken all other thoughts or emotions. She neither hears the thunder nor is buffeted by the wind. She spots her flowering tree home in the distance. She pushes herself more than ever before. Her nest is now visible among the branches. Her ears perk up, are her children distressed? No sound comes from the bundle of sticks. She clumsily lands and frantically swings her gaze around her tiny, barren nest. She laughs to herself. She laughs so hard, but now there is no difference between sobs and her laughter. Her body shakes and trembles with emotion. She is overjoyed that her babies have already left the coop, they have flown into the world many weeks ago. She is also miserable, she has had an episode like this multiple times. She settles into her tightly woven nest, and with

a full belly, listens to the [too silent] sun shower soak the forest with lush life sustenance.