Hello sad fern.
Howdy.
Tell me…why “sad” fern”?
{awkward silence}…have you looked at me lately?
Ri-ight. Sad. Very sad.
Hey now, I was on clearance at SAMS, you know. Cut me some slack.
You got it. So…I hear you’ve been busy over the past few weeks.
Why yes, I have been. Just a few days after I was purchased, some House Finches discovered me and started stuffing me with sticks and feathers and dead leaves, and before I knew it, I was holding a pale blue egg. First one, then two…then a few days later…5 eggs.
Five eggs! Woah nelly, sad fern. You’re cool!
Thank you. It was interesting, to say the least. But, I must confess, my very life flashed before my eyes. I thought for sure I’d become “dead fern”, with all that pressure and activity and poop.
Oh! Sorry about that. But talk about a new lease on life! Rather than just hang and look pathetic, er…um…I mean sad…you actually got to help house new life!
You’re highly excitable, aren’t you?
Why yes. Yes I am! Totally.
Hmmm. Must be exhausting.
No, really…it’s fun! My inner child bubbles beneath the surface!
Right. You should write a blog.
I do! I totally do!
Okay lady, calm down.
Sorry. So what happened next?
Well, you see, after about two weeks of momma bird sitting on her nest, nestled in my South-westerly side – while her man sat on the corner of the roof and sang to her – which is, admittedly, a little weird – one of the eggs hatched. And then another, and another.
No way! How cool is that?!? Precious little babies!
You really don’t have to pretend you’re hearing this for the first time, lady. Considering you were sticking your lens in my space every day hoping for a glance of the hatchlings, you can simmer down a fraction, eh?
I see why you’re called sad fern.
{crickets chirping}
So! How was it for you? I mean…getting to experience this miracle of life in your very own hanging basket?
Not bad. Apart from the poop. Lots of poop. And you. And your loin fruit. And the millions of other people you traipsed through your front door to expose my innards to.
Gosh, sad fern, I had no idea you were such a private…um, plant. I’m sorry I showed you off so much. I was simply excited about your new role in life…as a nursery to 5 wee little babes!
{shuffling leaves}
Aaaw, shucks. Wasn’t that bad. Really. Kinda liked it. Most attention I ever got. You know?
Oh yay!
Yup.
So glad I could help! How are the babies?
All grown up and so big. Not so freaky lookin’ anymore. It happened so fast…the last one flew away yesterday.
…and now look what you did…I’m dripping. Why’d ya go and water me so heavily.
I didn’t water you, sad fern.
Oh.
You miss them, don’t you.
Somethin’ terrible, don’t ya know…
{Cue elevator music}
“We interrupt this interview to bring you this happy photo of ice cream”
{5 minutes later}
Glad to have you back, sad fern. I realize this is very hard for you.
Thank you.
What are you going to do now that your babies are gone? This is called “empty nest syndrome”, you know.
They’re not my babies, lady, and yes, that’s what my therapist told me.
Oh!
Hmmm. Yes. Well, I guess I’ll just hang around until you forget to bring me inside in the Fall and the first frost kills me.
Wow. I’ll make a note of that, sad fern. I’ll be sure to bring you inside. On another note…did you hear we’re getting dogs on Monday?
Go ahead and leave me outside.
{No ferns were harmed during this interview. Autumn is another story}
