What does home mean to you?

The grand tree and the exotic birds.

Photo by Andile Mnothoza on Unsplash

My childhood home could be easily viewed from the main highway, given the great expanse of bare land that preceded the view, save for one great old gnarly acacia tree that towered majestically and hosted a myriad of birds that were a beautiful sight to behold, for sure, I've never come across such birds again in my lifetime, maybe on the screens but nothing beats the real deal!

The thorny burly tree kept growing toward the heavens each year, and birds flocked there as if drawn by the tree’s secret magic, which only it whispered to draw in the vibrant conglomerate of birds.

There were colorfully multicolored, richly endowed rainbow birds, huge birds I thought could be geese flying up the green shrubbery, tiny birds, medium to large birds that were so amazingly awesome to behold, nature at its very best, and the whole mass of these colorful and dark creatures meeting from the corners of the earth and congregating here made a noise like nothing else!

Photo by Meg von Haartman on Unsplash

A mixture of calls and sounds, noises and singing and fights and hums, a continuous crescendo that pitched and rose while each bird fought for its voice to be dominant and most shrill, most piercingly natural.

We were awakened by the chorus of the birds’ sounds and kept entertained the whole day by their pulsating musical cacophony.

I have never seen a great flock of various birds in one place like this. It was nature at its best! And the birds were accommodating each other among the branches, coexisting for as long as I could remember; this was their way of life.

New species arrived, and maybe others left who were long stayers or they each just fit in; the tree just found a nesting place for the birds that were resilient among its thorns to build nests and bring up their young.

Photo by You Le on Unsplash

The only mistake you’d make is to walk leisurely underneath the tree; just make sure you're wearing a covering from head to toe or holding an open umbrella because the droppings aren’t timed, and even if you run through, a stray bird dropping could ruin your outdoor moment.

The observations we made were from a safe distance and not that much of a distance anyway, close enough to feel the hum and chirping of the birds and observe their goings and comings and new arrivals who just passed by, to visit or decide to perch or bring back their friends and relative birds.

It was like each day drew a new species, and watching them perched atop the acacia, well populating it and reclaiming it as their home, was just wonderfully satisfying, a real feast for the eyes and very comforting.

Up close with the birds meant you tolerated the funny smell and the droppings, but we kids didn't mind all that; we exhilarated in excitedly pointing out what delighted our sights.

Even as a young adult, I didn't stop to marvel at the sight, as each day brought a new wonder among the acacia. It was one of the best ever memories of home, that tree that gave home to so many birds and still towered proudly to the skies, spreading its branches freely, wildly, as far as it could get. An ever-present, familiar, sturdy presence like the skies it seemed to touch.

As an adult, am akin to listening to birds calling out and chirping, i observe them and just relate to what i saw growing up, a sound that brings back good, peaceful, innocent, nature memories and an early dawn broken by the chirping of birds and the dusk as they settle down, you hear one chirp and call here and more frenzied calls as they accommodate each other to share the space among the great acacia to settle down and bid the day goodnight.

Photo by Adhrima A.P on Unsplash

A chirp is all i need to ground me to my home, and in my mind’s eye nature is still following me all over wherever i am, because that chirp as i strain to listen to it has never failed to materialize and its joined by another and another and i peacefully drift off to sleep or quietly awaken to listen and be content that the birds found a new nesting and home after the great acacia was suddenly struck by lightning, but all the birds were spared, the acacia was halved in two never to rise again.

But its memories live on in me, and you, and the bird’s descendants wherever they flew out to. Maybe you’d hear one outside your window right now; that's my childhood friend- say hello.

That's home to me, the memory of the greatest acacia with its populating residents among its branches, the beautiful chirping, however loud it got, meant the day goes on as in nature, and it quiets down after the day is spent, a lonely fading chirp to wrap up the day and tuck myself in.

Home- where the birds nesting atop the majestic strong acacia, heralded the day and ushered in the dawn and invited us to partake in nature’s bounty and beauty🕊️🪾

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