The Love Song of My Parents and A Little Red Cardinal
“Some say cardinals are a message from heaven from a loved one who has died,” my sister Renae said as we headed toward the Wallace Desert Garden at the Boyce Thompson Arboretum near Superior, Arizona.
Not one to look for angels with every feathered friend, I wanted to document a northern cardinal for a more scientific reason—as a confirmed siting for my bird list for 2022. We had been tracking one earlier, when a groundskeeper—emptying the trash cans—had scared it away. He had assured us there were plenty of cardinals on the arboretum’s 300 acres.
While we searched for the recognizable scarlet plumage in distant foliage, I thought of the cardinal snow globe sitting on my desk at home, an item from my parents’ estate. Dad had given it to Mom when they both were going through chemo. Surrounded by the endless white of a long Minnesota winter, Mom had often stood at their picture window, gazing at the bird feeder below, searching for the snow globe’s real counterpart.
Sometimes we all need tangible reminders to hope, our own messages from heaven.
As my sister and I neared The Grotto, an artificial water source at the arboretum, I glimpsed a flash of red through the branches. Stepping quietly, we discovered, not just a male northern cardinal, but also his mate, sporting the subdued brown feathers, along with the telltale red on her crest, wings, and tail. The pair foraged for seeds, fruits, and insects under the shade of a mesquite before flying off with a cheer-ey cheer-ey, too-too-too.
According to The Sibley Guide to Bird Life and Behavior, cardinals do not learn their songs in the nest, but rather through “song-matching.” When one-year-old males return to the breeding grounds to attempt breeding for the first time, they learn their songs from older birds occupying neighboring territories. The males retain these songs for life.
I thought of my mom standing at that picture window while stage four cancer attempted to silence her life song. I thought of my dad, watching her, with the eyes of a lover who had loved her for half a century. Where had he learned his song-matching? Was it trial and error? Was it from others who had gone before him? Perhaps it was living out the advice given in Ecclesiastes 9:9 NASB, “Enjoy life with the woman whom you love all the days of your fleeting life which He has given to you under the sun; for this is your reward in life.”
I am not sure where Dad learned to sing the notes of his song, but this I know: when we packed up their estate, a little cardinal snow globe sat near that picture window, flashing a reminder of a melody that would not be forgotten.
I can still hear their song.
Where did you learn your song matching?
The little cardinal snow globe
Documenting my 52 Sauntering Adventures this year. Get your own paper trackers on my website. Info below.
This post appeared recently in the SanTan Sun News.