Phobia

I don’t have the usual phobias that you hear about like arachnophobia or agoraphobia. Most people understand these phobias but Ornithophobia being a bird phobia is hard for people to understand. I had nightmares from time to time when I was a child where I was being attacked by all kinds of birds. They swooped down, surrounding me, pecking me, battering me with their wings all the while their loud, piercing cries deafening my ears. In the dream, I threw myself to the ground and the birds covered me, peck, peck, pecking with their strong sharp beaks, beating me with their wings. When I would manage to get to my feet and run, there would be birds coming at me from the sky, attacking my face and head making terrible, screeching cries. I would wake in a lather of perspiration, waving my arms about to defend myself. Yes, it is hard to imagine being terrified to hold a little canary or have a small wren sit on your hand, but unfortunately, that was my weird phobia.

My fearful relationship with birds probably started when I was very small and living on a farm. My phobia for feathered creatures started with larger birds. Our gander being the male goose, would become a creature of terror every Spring when the goslings emerged from their shell casings. Every morning when I was trying to make my way down the driveway to wait for our school bus, he would suddenly appear from nowhere, neck extended, hissing and flapping his large wings as he directed his unjustified anger at me. Inevitably, it would be a scene that created amusement for my brothers who were never a target of our fearsome gander. I would be seen screaming and running for safety. My brothers would watch this performance which amused them to no end. Eventually one of them would grab Mr Gander around his neck which seemed to do the trick until the next day when he would lie in wait for me to appear again.

My brothers and I headed off to the windmill one day to have a cool off in the tank which was full of icy, cold, bore water. Not being aware that the female had her nest under the tank stand, I was waiting my turn to climb the ladder up to the rim of the tank. Suddenly I heard that familiar hissing sound and then a honking sound of a very angry gander. I was frozen for a few seconds as the gander emerged from under the stand, flapping, neck outstretched and heading towards me. I started to flee but he was too quick and he attached his beak to my tummy which was exposed in my two-piece bathers. After my brother once again gallantly pulled him off me, I was left with a very nasty bruise for some time.

Then there was the turkey. A big male gobbler. He tormented me whenever he got the chance. The most frightening incident was when I tried to emerge from our outdoor toilet that we had in those days. It was getting dark and when I opened the door, here he was standing there blocking my way and making very threatening sounds. He was a big bird and I slammed the door closed and spent the next fifteen minutes shouting out for help until my father came and rescued me.

My sister liked to carry hens around like little pets. They were really, nice, little creatures but when I picked one up on her insistence, it stuck its claw-like feet into my skin and made pecking movements on my arm. I flung it away.

Then, there was the magpie. Walking to the dairy to collect some milk for the household, I felt swooping overhead, and looking up I saw the bird heading straight towards me. Its beak hit the target which was my head. I dropped the milk and ran waving my arms wildly in every direction as the bird continued to attack me like a wartime bomber plane. It did not give up its attack until I made record time running into the house. I was screaming and sobbing by this time. After that, every time I walked down the track to get the milk I was well protected with a hat, sunglasses,, and a stick as a defense weapon.

Unfortunately, my phobia extended to small birds over a period of time. When we had beautiful little chickens, I could not bear to pick them up and feel their little, sharp feet against my skin. Their tiny boney bodies disturbed me as well. It was a case of look but don’t touch for me when it came to birds.

My mother always loved birds and could not understand my phobia. She understood that I was frightened when I was a child by the aggressive geese and the turkey but she found it hard to comprehend my fear of all birds.

As an adult, I became interested in photography and other photographers that I spent time with loved to do bird photography. I wanted to capture photos of the beautiful birds in the bush and around waterways but I was so afraid that one might fly and land on me or flick me with its wings or worse maybe peck at me. My phobia did not prevent me from admiring the beauty of birds but I would never try to photograph one unless I was with a companion.

Then the very heartbreaking day came when my dear mother passed away. I was devastated with grief and could not imagine my life without her in it.

A couple of days after her funeral, I was sitting outside deep in thought and remembering all the wonderful times when I was a child., thinking about the love and care my mother bestowed on me. I felt deeply sad and was shedding a quiet tear as I sat there.

Suddenly I looked to the side and I saw a little sparrow bobbing along on the ground. I wanted it to go away as I worried that it might land on me. All of a sudden a strange sensation came over me and suddenly I felt a calmness and the fear of this little bird hopping along close to my feet started to disappear. It stopped and cocked its head on the side and looked at me steadily. It stopped hopping and we just looked at each other.

I started to feel that I wanted that little bird to come and perch on my hand. I started to hear my mother’s voice telling me that there was no reason to be afraid of birds. She told me that I could get a lot of happiness by watching birds and enjoying their joyful sounds.

She said to look at all the different varieties and learn to admire them instead of having fear.

She told me that the birds that attacked me when I was a child, did so as they were just protecting their young. Just as humans are very protective of their children, it is the same for animals and birds.

Suddenly that little bird landed on my leg. At first, I cringed but I thought about my mother and how she loved birds and animals. Then a feeling of great calm came over me and I felt affection for that little bird. I no longer feared its little feet on my leg. I did not fear its beak.

It sat there for such a long time and it watched me with its little head moving from side to side and then it flew off. I was overcome with happiness that I had somehow communicated with this little creature. It was almost like it sensed that I was incredibly sad and just having this other living creature sitting quietly on my leg soothed my sadness and I felt a connection with my mother.

That was the beginning of my love for birds. It was the end of my fear. I still retain that wariness of magpies, geese, swans, and other larger birds but I feel many people share that fear.

Now I capture beautiful images of birds with my camera and I really get lots of joy from hearing their chorus in the morning.