Wind

Alfredo's parents didn't think there was  any real concern, they just saw him as being different, maybe a bit eccentric. His persona had always been a contrast to his older brothers, more introspective, even more independent. Alfredo loved his parents and brothers, but he too knew how they wondered about him. He didn't mean to be such a mystery. His interests set him apart.

His folks recognized a unique perception that often fully absorbed Alfredo's attention. How as a baby he would stare at the sky endlessly, as if he were staring straight out into space, sometimes almost transfixed on some forms of clouds, or an early twilight star. Or, a cable above the boulevard with a chorus line of pidgeons, or a blue-flowered bush radiating butterflies. Even as a baby, Alfredo's habits of observation were intense, concentrated attention to detail, patterns, or sundry symmetries. His folks were always amazed with him.

But one thing especially hypnotized Alfredo like nothing else: the wind. You'd think it was his alone, the wind, how he feels it, how it speaks to him in ways we won't understand. Standing outside with a strong wind leaning him over, this was Alfredo's favorite moment, face open and forward as if drinking in the brisk, pressing air. The wind was some kind of personal love affair for Alfredo, running with it, embracing it as in dance, breathing it into his bones.The new storm brewing thru Alfredo's region the past few days was his favorite weather. He pulled on his coats to head outside before it got too dark. 

The winds began to rip atoubd in gangs of gusts. Nearing a tree a hundred feet from his house, he happened to look up, then he saw it: tge nest, on a tiny knook about ten feet up. He couldn't see much, stretching his head back, but from one angle it looked like the nest had half-slid off the perch of trunk, he could see it moving slightly. With the wind blowing so hard, Alfredo knew it was only a matter of when, not if or maybe. He had to do something, the wind certainly wasn't stopping to help him. Maybe the nest was just empty, or maybe the wind had run off the mom. Alfredo had to find out, no other choice.

Then, his mom's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Alfredo! Come back inside. Where are you?" It seemed the worsening wind even pushed aside her calling. "Mom! Here! Come quick!", Alfredo waved. When his mom got there, he just pointed up to the nest. Seeing her son's stricken expression, she knew a rescue was needed, he'd settle for nothing else. She looked up again. The precarious nest was a good five feet above her reach. "Okay. Listen. Wait here. I'll be right back." Alfredo's dad, tow-truck company owner, was out of town for a few days with an ill relative. But Alfredo's mom knew exactly what to do.

Jumping up into the driver's seat of one of her husband's tow trucks, she remembered how she felt the very first time she'd seen that view- higher than she realized. Turning the key, the big truck rumbled to life. Slowly inching out of the garage, Alfredo's mom maneuvered the truck very close beside the tree. Then, after standing on the two-step platform at the base of the truck's crane, she could just reach the nest above her. Grateful it stayed intact, she gingerly held it, stepping very carefully back down, then almost in slow motion, handed the precious handful to Alfredo, on his toes.

Then he saw them. His eyes got big as moons: five tiny eggs. Wow! Mission accomplished! Mom is a hero! Alfredo already knew the place in the barn he would make to safeguard the nest. They'd looked for the mom bird after the winds slowed. Alfredo wasn't angry with the wind, but would always think of it differently after that day. He just never knew he could hold the wind in his own two hands.