Isabella continued to visit the outer circle regularly as spring was a busy time for Icarayus. He showed her how to train the Espalier trees and she was able to make good on her temper tantrum by guiding the new growth into place and creating symmetry again.
There was much work to do with the fledglings as they needed help and care over and above that which their mothers could provide. She came to realise, the care was not only practical it was about physical relationships too, it was as if she and Icarayus were training the Spectas to be in relationship with others, to become trusting of others. This she thought might be a disadvantage in a cruel world where animals were often harmed or mistreated, but Icarayus disagreed. “They need to experience the totality of life,” he explained. “if all I wanted to do was to breed birds and keep them safe I would never open the boxes and let them free. The point of their lives is to experience the complexity of life on earth, the harsh surroundings as well as the plentiful, the welcoming hands as well as the threatening and the heat of the sun, or the icy blast of an arctic storm. They understand the thermals that surround the earth and they take comfort and strength from these waves of energy that hold them aloft and lift them up when they feel unable to do so by themselves. They are not like children, they learn quickly to depend on that which will never change and they gain their strength and their freedom through this innate instinct for survival.
Come let’s sit a while and take some tea he said leading her to a corner of the garden that she had never noticed before. Here he laid out a rug and produced out of a basket that she had not registered at all, two cups, a flask, some nuts and dried fruits. He opened the flask and the familiar smell of cardamom reached her nostrils and she smiled. “Simmi’s tea,” she said.
“Of course,” said Icarayus, “I understand you have developed quite a taste for it.”
“Is there anything you don’t know?” she asked in mock frustration.
“There is always more to learn Isabella, always, so yes there are many things I do not know. One of the things that I am really struggling with at the moment is man’s disregard for his planet. Do you know Isabella that whales have been killed through eating plastic bags and that birds are dying right now because of the oil that is seeping, no not 'seeping',
pouring, into the oceans? Simmi and I spend much time in the company of his cardamom tea asking ourselves the same question, why the world as we knew it and loved it is no longer good enough? Why the sun which warmed Simmi’s days on the earth is no longer enough to heat those who are alive now, and why the crystals that once provided energy and life are now pushed aside in favour of drilling into the ocean bed and producing energy at the cost of natural life?”
Isabella didn’t really know how to respond she herself had watched with horror at the unfolding drama in the Gulf of Mexico where animals and wildlife were being drowned by the oil that was pouring from the ocean bed. She had watched in disbelief the people in the news get off their planes, step out of their pick up trucks and boats and yell about the disaster hitting their shores, without apparently realising that they too were part of the problem and that the solution partly lay as within the very communities so badly affected. When the volcanic ash cloud had recently closed the skies she found herself praying for more volcanic ash, not less, for the skies were peaceful again and the sound of birds was louder than the sound of jet engines for the first time since the winter snow that had brought peace in it's wake.
There was a silence between them as these images flowed through her mind and she was lost for words. There was no unease between the two of them although she did feel suddenly like a spokeswoman for humanity and that was not a position she was comfortable with. She would always do what she could for the earth and tried to live as lightly on the planet as she could, partly because she always had and partly because living lightly on the planet seemed to bring her closer to the memory of Raven.
Raven, that name that still brought a pang of sadness to her heart and a small tear to her eye.
“Simmi never lies you know, Raven will be able to join you in the big house before long.” Icarayus said without prompting.
She smiled and nodded hoping that her own disbelief at that statement did not show through. Hoping to see Raven again seemed to her to be a futile exercise. Expecting to see Raven again seemed either ridiculous, or a path to madness and men in white coats, so she decided it was better not to engage the subject at all.
“What’s the book in the corner of the hall and in your kitchen?” she asked.
“That’s the Book of Lives, the record of everything, the encyclopaedia of life on earth. When you have finished living you start reviewing so that you understand what life on earth was all about.”
“Surely that happens while you’re living it?”
“There’s a famous quote from someone wiser that me that says, ‘Life can only be understood backwards, but must be lived forwards.’ And that I think says it all. The only difference is that I now know that there is a long time to review the life after it has been lived. I am still picking over the traces of my own life and that was a very, very long time ago, but the memories are as crisp as the moment they were born.”
“Is that true for everyone?”
“Everyone without exception. You cannot escape the memories that you lay down for yourself, and neither should you want to. Another famous person said, ‘You are a long time dead.’ so I would encourage you to collect a great deal of stories, not just to tell your grandchildren and great grandchildren, but to feast on over cardamom tea for ages to come and perhaps, if you are really lucky, to share with a brave mortal who makes it through the blue mist and takes the time to ask you about your life one day.
Now, dear Isabella, my time with you has come to an end.”
Isabella must have looked shocked at this statement for Icarayus placed his hand on her arms and added, “For today.” His hand was a light as a feather but it was comforting nonetheless and she placed her hand over his with the same gentle attention she had given the young fledgling earlier.
“Until next time, don’t leave it too long or the fledglings will have all flown the nest.” Icarayus blew her a kiss before stooping to gather up his basket, folded the blanket under his arm and disappeared from view. All that remained were the faint strains of his flute that seemed to be caught on the breeze, but as she approached the gate the notes faded entirely and, not for first time, she wondered if she had been dreaming.
