The man and the blackbird - based on a real event

Today I bring to you the story of how a silent world spoke so loud, that changed forever the life of someone passing by. Not that it had been told to her, actually no one told her anything about it. She just witnessed it, the magic hovering and dancing along with the melody of two pairs of sparkling eyes. Waiting for someone to notice it. And because its existence crossed paths with these lines, here’s how everything happened.

Once upon a time, there was a blackbird, same as any other blackbird, searching for food among the grass of a men’s park. And once upon a time there was a man that worked at the same park, a man living in the silence of those that can’t hear, and couldn’t speak men’s ordinary language as well. He was deaf-mute. When it happened, I was just someone passing by, maybe even a little ashamed of paying attention. But I couldn’t help it. Further ahead in front of me, man and blackbird stared at each other, standing only a few inches apart. As I got closer, none of them moved. They were just there, sharing a silent conversation that spoke so loud, I couldn’t prevent myself from listening. No, I didn’t imagine it. Eye to eye, that blackbird asked the man to tell him all about living among impenetrable silences, how it felt to be different from his own kind and not being able to hear the world’s voices. And the man smiled, because not being able to hear the voices of the world didn’t prevent him from listening to that bird and understand what he was saying to him. With all the tenderness of the world overflowing from his sparkling eyes, he told the blackbird he would tell him all about his silences if he told him in return how it felt to be able to fly. 

I kept getting closer and stopped noticing the wind whirling all over the tree’s branches. I didn’t notice there were people passing me by anymore, nor did I notice the ground underneath each one of my steps. The silence between man and bird spoke so loud, that it became all there was. Almost catching up with them, I could hear the blackbird was now talking to the man about how he loved listening to the wind’s lullaby among the tree’s branches, as well as how trusting his own wings prevented him from feeling fearful being so far above the ground. He also told him all about the wind caressing his strong wings, about the acrobatics and short turns happening up there in the skies, of how everything looks so simple from up there. And the man that couldn’t listen to the world’s voices heard him, with such wonder and genuine empathy that one could say he was actually riding the blackbird’s back somewhere up there in the sky, while he listened.

I caught myself smiling as never before, and almost hesitated when I passed them by from a little distance: I really wished I could hear it all, to absorb that intense conversation between man and animal until its last drop. But I couldn´t. The moment wasn’t mine to be part of. And so, I only delayed my steps the enough time to hear the man fulfilling his part of the agreement and telling the bird all about how hard it was to deal with the absence of the world’s voices. And yet how he had learned to read the sounds on the lips of those who spoke, on the wind over his face and all over the tree’s branches, on the tender touch of those he loved. Of how grateful and honored he felt for being able to know so well all those places words can’t reach.

When I was already walking away in the distance, feeling a bit sad, I could still hear the man talking about of how grateful he felt that his silent world allowed him to hear the wise words of a blackbird that had patiently shared with him all about riding a bird across the sky.

                                                                                                

Vanessa Lourenço