The Stillness Is Broken

Silence on the river
Night has fallen, her blanket of stillness envelops all
A train whistle blasts the moment
And its violent passage reminds of industry and commerce, business and schedules.

Silence returns again
But interruption returns
This time a chorus of frog voices
A predator has come near
And the warning goes up and down the river like a siren for an inbound tornado.

Squawks of alarm punctuate the stress and terror of the moment
A nest has been invaded
Young lives hang in the balance
Is it a snake? A coon? Some other foraging carnivore?
Only the night will know.
And the mother who has doubtless just lost a child.

I later suspect it was a duck
And a duck family who were the unluckly hosts to an uninvited guest.
Slowly the chorus of frog voices fades away
The predator has claimed its prize and moved on
The danger has passed, but the result is fatal and everlasting.

The silence seems to have returned to the river
But a forlorn cry goes out
Not a human cry, but the cry of an animal
I think it must be a bird
Specifically a mother bird
Sorrowing for her lost babe, stolen from her nest of perceived safety and comfort
Ripped from her sleeping bed as her terror stricken parent fought and protested to no avail.

The silence finally returns again to the river
And I go to my own bed to think and eventually to sleep.
And to count my blessings, for my young chicks are all safe in their beds.
Our door is locked, and should it open, I would stand at the gate.

What bliss to not live out on the shores of the river
In the darkness
In the chaos
In the unprotected wilderness
Where a parent’s voice cried out in the darkness, but no one answered.

We are left to listen
And think
And give thanks.
But also to sorrow with the mother, who has lost what cannot be replaced.