An osprey crapped on me yesterday.
Yes, you read that correctly.
There’s no doubt that we are ALL suffering from a major infliction of cabin fever, and yesterday presented itself as one of the nicer days we’ve enjoyed in a while. A true harbinger of warmer days to come. The day’s recipe of impeccable sunshine combined with a pinch of minimal wind and a dash of feathery clouds coerced me to taste the day’s buffet by spending some time outside (while following obvious social distancing rules, in case I have to clarify this with a common-sense disclaimer for those in the back).
I cleaned up the yard a bit then went for a bicycle ride with my husband. At one point, three ospreys majestically soared directly over me in the bright blue vastness with their high-pitched call echoing down from their heights.
I grabbed my phone from my back jeans pocket and aimed it upwards in their general direction to take a picture, but the sun’s angle made it difficult to see. I blindly pressed the shutter button, hoping I captured the swirling birds in my viewfinder.
As I returned my phone to my pocket, I heard a quick pattering of what I thought were large rain drops hitting the pavement.
A crystal blue, mostly cloudless sky… scattered rain drops… that made little sense.
On the ring finger of my right hand, there it was… a wet, white splatter smaller to those that now stained the blacktop around me and my bicycle’s fender.
As always, I tried to assign meaning to being spontaneously baptized by an osprey. Should I be flattered, or irritated? Was I lucky, or unfortunate? Was the osprey’s release meant for me, or was I in the way as I most often find myself?
That’s one of the running titles for my future memoir, if I ever get around to writing it: I’m always in the way.
It’s uncanny… no matter what I do, I find myself in the way of someone or something more often than not. Even when I move to get OUT of the way, I end up being more of a hinderance or a target than I would have been if I had just stayed put. It happens at home, in the classroom, in the hallways, at public events, in train stations, in the aisles of the local grocery store, and even when I am by myself.
For example, when I was in middle school, I stood on the sidelines of the local soccer complex waiting for my younger brother’s soccer game to begin. Two teams on the field with players older than me battled it out during the final minutes of their game. One of the players kicked the soccer ball very high and in my direction. I moved about ten or so steps to my left to get out of the way, and the ball whaled me right on top of my head. If I had stayed where I stood a few sections prior to impact, I would have been fine, but the ball got me because I tried to get out of the way. Another time, as I cleaned my closet, I nudged a box on the top shelf with a yardstick to propel it down and I stepped backwards out of its path. Or so I thought. Wouldn’t you know the box landed square on top of my head anyway, just like the soccer ball had? Thankfully, neither incident produced a concussion as far as I know, although the double head impact could explain a lot…
Anyway, always being in the way is, and forever has been, one of my many idiosyncrasies. Wearing a perpetual target can be awkward and downright frustrating. When I move to get out of the way but end up becoming more of an obstruction, especially in public, I flush and feel like a graceless goon.
However, this idiosyncrasy, like all the others, is part of who I am.
I can’t shake it. I can’t overcome it. The only choice left is to embrace it.
Perhaps that’s why the osprey chose me, to reassure me it is truly a blessing to be different and my quirks and flaws make me one-of-a-kind
Of course, the osprey could have been trying to impress his two flying partners with his on-target aim.
Or maybe, he just had to crap.
I’ll stick with the lesson.
The world needs its eccentric, graceless goons. My name is Jill, and I am blessed and proud to be one of them.
Thanks for joining me on my journey. I’m glad you’re here.
“Coronacation Chronicles – April 26, 2020” was posted on jillocone.com and on soulseaker.com on April 26, 2020. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not compensated in any way by any entity. Copyright 2020, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact firstname.lastname@example.org with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries.
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