An Oriole in Brooklyn

I was sitting in a magical and slightly overgrown mature garden in the back of a Brownstone in Prospect Heights, Brooklyn with Dr. G, who lost his beloved wife three years earlier. The struggles of COVID had only increased his isolation and loneliness. Dr. G. had a long and colorful career as a Brooklyn pediatrician and has wonderful recollections of children and their families and his work in the community.

We spoke mostly and at length about his long marriage to his brilliant and dynamic red-haired wife and his ongoing grief. His memories of joy and loss were both beautiful and overwhelming. Suddenly there was a loud splashing in the birdbath and we both turned to see a vibrant orange Baltimore Oriole giving itself a noisy afternoon wash. Orioles are newcomers to Brooklyn as they usually reside further south. Dr. G. looked at me with a bucolic smile; "I believe my wife sent the oriole," he explained, "what do you think?" "I absolutely agree" I replied. "What else could it be?"