A Nest for Celeste (12 page)

S
ure enough, just before dawn Celeste heard the osprey’s high-pitched call as he wheeled and soared above the creek. She ran back and forth along the sandy bank until the osprey spotted her far below.

He circled and swooped and landed lightly, if awkwardly, on the narrow creek bank.

“Not much room for a landing,” Lafayette joked. “How are things with my little sugar pie this morning?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” answered Celeste. “But I do have a favor to ask of you.”

“What’s that, sugar plum?”

“Would you take me home now?” asked Celeste.

The osprey raised a brow.

“I don’t weigh very much,” she added.

Then he grinned. “Why sure, honey! But now, just how would you suggest I do that?”

With a flourish, Celeste pulled away the sycamore leaf and revealed the basket. There was the tightly woven gondola with its reinforced strap, complete with decorative shells and a cardinal feather.

“Holy catfish!” exclaimed Lafayette. “You’ve been busy! Is this your mysterious plan? It’s
splendid
….

Did you actually
make
this?” He picked up the basket gently with his beak, turning it around and admiring it from all sides.

Celeste blushed. No one had ever admired her work before. She hardly knew how to react.

“There’s nothing to it, really. Usually the difficult part is getting the supplies, but there were plenty of grasses around here. After that it’s a matter of the doing. I just do what my paws say to do.”

“I admire those folks who are clever with their paws.” The osprey sighed, studying the intricate basket. “I’ve always been so clumsy with my talons.”

“I can’t imagine you being clumsy at anything,” said Celeste.

“Aw, go on!” Lafayette blushed. “I could never do what you can do. This basket is amazing! A work of art! And all by your lonesome? You’re amazing, sugar pie! And you’re thinking I can give you a ride in it?”

Celeste pointed to the two straps. “If you grab
here, and here, with your talons, I’m sure it’s sturdy enough. And it’s lightweight, too, so I wouldn’t be much of a burden. Can we give it a try?”

“Absolutely! I’m game if you are. Afraid of heights?”

“Well, I don’t know…yet!”

The morning air was cool and damp, and heavy dew covered every surface. Even in the predawn light Celeste could see that the entire world was blanketed in silvery droplets. The air was full of the scent of magnolia and jasmine blossoms. Celeste couldn’t wait to try the gondola.

Lafayette’s eyes glowed and his feathers were ruffled with anticipation as he maneuvered the basket. He carefully clasped its handle in his talons and lifted it with one foot. Celeste hopped into the gondola and gripped the rim tightly.

“Ready?” he called out.

“Ready!” she cheered.

W
ith a few flaps of the osprey’s powerful wings the basket lifted slightly. It dragged for a moment along the sandy shoal and then, in a flash, the ground dropped away as Lafayette soared upward. Celeste squealed as a sycamore loomed in front of them, then below them, then behind them as the two rose and wheeled in the air.

Celeste turned in her basket. The osprey’s huge tail feathers fanned out in a striped pattern above her head.

Lafayette flapped over the creek in a widening arch, and Celeste could see the world getting bigger as they soared up. She saw that there were other creeks, and vast stretches of woods and fields, dotted with houses and barns, striped with fences and sandy roads.

“Hanging on tight?” the osprey shouted down to Celeste.

“Yes!” she chittered back. She clutched the rim of the basket, adrenaline racing through her tiny body. It seemed that all her strength and energy was spent clinging to the basket, but she desperately wanted to remember every detail of the flight.

The creek bank was soon far behind. She looked down, trying to find a familiar landmark, but didn’t recognize anything. The distant fields and woods were deep green in the early-morning light, the air
cool and misty as it flowed past Celeste’s whiskers.

“Should I go back down?” called the osprey.

“No! This is wonderful!”

“Hold on! Now I want to take you for a real treat.”

Lafayette banked his wings to the left and angled sharply.

“Eee!”
Celeste squealed rapturously. “Do that again!” And the graceful bird dipped and swooped dangerously close to the treetops.

“See that? The river!”—and he turned again, nearing an expanse of water nearly a mile wide. The sun had just peeked above the tree line to the east, turning the water into a golden mirror dotted with hovering patches of peach-and-honey-colored mist. Hundreds and hundreds of ducks were careening along the shoreline in loose flocks.

The osprey dipped slightly as they neared an enormous sycamore tree along the riverbank; as the basket glided between its branches, they saw scores of
yellow, green, and orange parakeets.

“Hello, down there!”

Celeste called to them.

“Hello!” they chattered and screeched back.

Lafayette continued up the river, alternately soaring just above the treetops and flapping just above the water’s surface. Celeste breathed deeply, enjoying the sweet, musky smell of the river as the air rushed across her whiskers.

They headed toward an open part of the woods; Celeste could see that it seemed to be flooded with river water. The trees were different here, not like the thick stands of poplar or the spreading branches of the live oaks that grew in the yard of the plantation. These trees seemed to pop right out of the water. Their branches were festooned with long tresses of hanging moss.

She looked closer. Down along the banks of the dark water she could see long, rough-skinned creatures basking in patches of sunlight. One of them opened its huge mouth as they flew over and bellowed. Celeste could see rows of sharp teeth.

“Gators!” Lafayette hollered out, grinning. “Hold on tight! Don’t want to drop you now!”

They flew above long-necked birds that lined and dotted the tree limbs by the thousands. As Lafayette and Celeste cleared the tree canopy they surprised the birds. The birds’ necks and wings stretched out, and they squawked and croaked in a deafening cacophony. Celeste looked down as the entire flock took flight, flapping and swirling, brilliantly white in the morning sun.

Lafayette flew in
long, wide circles over the area, with Celeste scanning for anything familiar. Suddenly she shouted out. “There! Below! That’s it, I’m sure! That’s the big house!”

It was hard to recognize, because she had never seen the plantation house from this view; but the little bedroom window with the magnolia nearby was unmistakable. Lafayette circled down.

“I’m glad I’ve gotten you back before the sun was up too high or else someone would start shooting at me,” the osprey called down. “More and more guns shooting into the air these days…. It’s gotten so a bird isn’t safe in his own backyard anymore!” The wings
stopped beating for a moment, and the bird glided and banked again, turning closer to the house.

The morning was brightening, and Celeste could see that the early activity of the plantation had begun: Horses were pulling wagons toward the rice and sugarcane fields, and smoke was rising from a few chimneys dotted across the landscape.

Celeste had another idea.

“Lafayette! Drop me at this dogwood tree for a minute, please!”

“What?”

“Just let me grab something before you leave me at the window.”

Celeste quickly but carefully climbed out of the gondola and grabbed on to a branch of the dogwood tree. Lafayette hovered overhead. Finding a cluster of berries, she hurriedly chewed through the long stem. She grabbed the stem firmly before leaping back into the basket.

“Up to the window, the one on the left!” Celeste called out, and they flew to Joseph’s windowsill.

The osprey hovered just above the windowsill as Celeste carefully leaped out again.

“I’ll see you soon, sweet pea!” Lafayette called down.

“Thank you!” Celeste squeaked, as Lafayette dropped the basket on the sill. “For getting me home. And for the most wonderful time I’ve ever had!”