She spends her days inside with the man in the little farm house. Through the window she can see a small piece of the world; watching as the other birds sing their songs in trees and sky. She longs for the chance to join them, but she also knows she’s been so far removed from that life that it also scares her.

“I should really be outside”, she says.

“You know that’s not a good idea. The barn cat has been skulking about, making work for them. No, it’s not safe. Maybe in a few more days after she’s gotten fat and bored. We can go together soon.”

This has become a ritual; as the seasons change and the migrations happen, the urge to rejoin her nature takes hold, but his pragmatic reasoning always seems to win. Deep inside, she knows he’s right, there is danger out there: the barn cat she has never seen but only heard of, other territorial birds, and the tumultuous weather are all elements of danger the man is quick to remind her about.

At first, she was kept in a cage. A found item from ages ago that the man fashioned with trinkets of sentiment and warmth. The intent came from a place of love, and she appreciated it at first, but she quickly learned she could never fully embrace the restraints. While there was plenty of room in the cage, it still felt small and unnatural. In a fit of rage one day she tried to open the cage door. With as much strength as she could muster, she threw herself at the door several times in an attempt to escape.

Escape? No, that wasn’t her intent, she just wanted that door open. With one final attempt she hurled herself against the door, but instead of opening the locked door the amount of force ended up tipping the cage over. A sharp pain and a sense of defeat overwhelmed her.

Her wing was broken and so was her spirit.

He came home later that day, nursed her wounds, and promised to never close the cage door again.

Since then, she’s been able to exist inside without any locked doors. Her wing eventually healed and her longing for the world outside quickly ebbed. He was right, she had it well with him in this little world. They existed in harmony for a few seasons and their bond strengthening.

Over time the longing for the outside world would come back. She would do her best to mask this longing by singing her song, embracing the presence of the man as a gift. But eventually the longing would turn into an obsession and from that obsession, a resentment.

This particular morning, a group of blue jays flew by. Their song was difficult to ignore and the need to join them took hold.

“I SHOULD REALLY BE OUTSIDE!”

“We’ve been over this. It’s not a good time, and with your injury you’ll never be able to fly like the others. The barn cat is also getting cagey; she’s gotten bored with the field mice and the lizards. And besides that, winter will be here soon. No, it’s not a good idea. There is just too much to worry about out there.”

She wasn’t sure why, but she knew this time the request had more urgency. Her spirit wasn’t the only thing losing its vibrancy; her feathers weren’t as pristine as they used to be, her song no longer as beautiful.

“I. SHOULD. REALLY. BE. OUTSIDE!” she screamed this time.

Unlike the previous times, there was something different and the man realized that. Maybe deep down he also knew that to keep her from her nature was a disservice, but it wasn’t intended to be.

With tears in his eyes he went to the door and opened it. She was now offered a choice and she wasn’t entirely sure what to do next.