Judge Wizzy

Finally… a nice evening alone in the old  hollow tree with nothing to do except chill out and listen to a little night music. Wizzy was using her acute hearing to  concentrate on the out of district indie lark that had attracted her attention along the wire she sometimes perched on. His music was  intriguing as it had a wide range between an angry vibrato and a husky sub-amplitude croon. With this appealing entertainment and the sparse comforts of her home she was savouring the groove that her quiet  life had evolved into, give or take the odd adventure. The coolness of the night didn’t spoil her comfort. In fact she liked it enough to stay put in her forest home rather than go in for the winter time shares in the warm pig barn over yonder. No assisted living for her!

Oddly though, the normally chilly nest was  becoming uncomfortably warm. Thinking at first she was having a hot flash as could be expected due to her maturity she loosened up her neck feathers to let the cool breezes in . Little relief was found until she decided to clear out her nest of moulted feathers and other unmentionable debris. Digging way down deep she found her treasured button and to her great surprise found it was very warm to the touch. No wonder she was so uncomfortable. Wondering what to do with this developing hot button she was distracted from the cool music and vibe in the woods. Picking up the button like a hot potato with her beak she flung it outside onto the ground below. The eco- omen radiating out from the button was revealing itself to her. She was getting quick(er) to pick up on these things. (?!*#&!)

Like a bad penny, she wasn’t all that surprised to see Splat, the creepy carrier pigeon turning up within minutes and cooling his heels in the shadows under her tree.  His cryptic message for her from the White Roost had also been also authorized by The Big Hill. It instructed her to take an emergency flight to the Northwest Pinecone Territories immediately to attend an urgent meeting.  She had been granted dual authorized clearance of this no fly zone by both to be a mediator in the tense standoff going on there. Leaving the button to cool down, she merely covered it up a little with some wet mud from a puddle. Hopefully no silly goose would eat it.

Next thing she knew, she had arrived safely but windblown on a drifting ice floe. Ancient Samuel the Eagle, leader of the flock from the Land of Right and Left was presiding over the gathering much to the growing frustration of Old Snowy, the bird boss of The Territory of Pinecone and Outer Freaking Cold Limits. Both leaders had approved of having Wizzy mediate the heated argument they were involved in. Wizzy had previously impressed them both by her skills of observation and communication. Her interpretive swooping and avant garde staring were second to none, not even Sanderson Blooper. She would therefore mediate the debate without bias and bring about a quick resolution so that both leaders could get back to other issues demanding their attention such as…. what to do if you put all your eggs in one basket and it all goes terribly,terribly wrong… and how to win friends when nobody cares or even likes you.

The feathers had started to fly rather unexpectedly when Old Snowy had screeched his objections to Ancient Samuel trying to just take over the icy waters surrounding the islands of the Freaking Cold Outer Limits of The Territory of Pinecone. Samuel wanted access to the previously frozen waterway passage so that he could use it and mess it up for the sole benefit of The Land of Right and Left. Complicated, frozen stiff access to the disputed area in the olden days had been a deterrent but now with the onset of climate change the temptations of low- saline water, prime security vantage points and other buried hidden secret resources any birdbrain could deplete  was making it a place of renewed interest.  Snowy had somehow mustered enough guts to try to put a stop to it. Realizing what was at stake, Snowy had refused to participate in Samuel’s silly icebreakers at the onset of the meeting such as the Chicken Dance or the Manhattan Hokey Pokey.  He was not going to be fooled this time.

As the standoff continued, Wizzy witnessed the sad sight of thousands of terns committing suicide by unexpectedly flying directly into a cliff. Whales from oceans apart were swimming in dazed circles through the melting waters of The Freaking Cold Outer Limits unable to locate their bearings. Ominous clouds of mosquitoes descended all around them and threatened a terrible, deadly strike.

Faced with dealing with both cantankerous old birds and this dire turn of natural events Wizzy drew on her inner Owl and laid down the reality of the situation. Samuel, you think you can just come here and go through the melting waters and have your own way. Well, no you can’t and you can’t twist things such as ancient geographical coordinates to get your own way. So knock it off and leave and don’t come back uninvited until trust is reestablished. Snowy, you have stood your ground in this crisis and it shows some long over due grit. You have suicidal birds and dazed and confused whales to deal with and that is just the melting tip of the iceberg. You need to fix what can be fixed and not allow any further interference for the good of all, bird and beast. So smarten up before it’s too late.

With a deep disappointed sigh Samuel puffed out his elegant chest and extended a wing to Snowy. With an equally gloomy stare, Snowy did likewise. Meeting over, common sense restored by an (almost) impartial third-party the two seasoned old birds waddled off to the all day, early bird buffet at Lemmings Fast Foods. Avoiding any contact with Splat and his carrier cronies Wizzy took a cheap flight home stopping along the way to enjoy the deepening colours and scents of the season probably blissfully unaware that this was unique to her as a bird of prey.

Finally home, safe and sound Wizzy restored the remarkable button to her little pit of weird and wonderful bits and pieces in her hollow tree nest. Somehow that button with all its quirks was a comfort. Knowing it was there as a tool to be used wisely, Wizzy relaxed again and tuned in once more to listen to the songbird with attitude and soul.

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