Friday, May 27, 2022 Hunting Indigo Bunting

There’s really no reason why the sight of an indigo bunting should bring more excitement than the sight of a sparrow. But it does, doesn’t it? Would you go running to the window if someone said, “Look, a house sparrow!”

The only context I had for “indigo” as a child was in the colors of the rainbow: ROY G BIV. That’s a handy acronym that I’ve never forgotten. All those colors were very run-of-the-mill except “indigo.” It had a special mystique about it, if you’ll allow colors to have a mystique. Remember the Crayola Crayon boxes of 64 crayons? It was a pure delight to open up a new box of those; all those beautiful colors! I had a favorite, though, a crayon with such a wonderful color that I savored and favored it: midnight blue. Most of the 64 colors in the box were identified in the most purely prosaic terms: red, red-orange, red-violet, yellow, yellow-green, etc. But in amongst all those plain colors, midnight blue rose to poetic heights, calling to mind that evening color of the sky after the sun has gone down and only the stingy light of the stars remains. I can just imagine the Crayola Crayon employees jotting down names of the crayons very sensibly until the dreamy, poetic member of the team says, “let’s not say dark blue for this one – it reminds me of the sky at midnight. How about midnight blue?” Perhaps there was discussion at this point with some fool saying, “We don’t want to confuse the children with fanciful descriptions.” There will always be fools like that and they must be resisted and ignored.

I’ve gotten a little far afield from our indigo bunting. I think it’s our new red bird feeder that attracts it. Every time I see it, I’m thrilled all over again.

Where have you gone,
my sweet little bunting –
Your indigo feathers
I’m continually hunting.

I guess I’ll be bunting this post to the curb in the morning.