Twitterpated

A flash of gray whizzed by. This was it—she had arrived. Sid was so nervous that he teetered, almost losing his footing. He took a breath, steadied himself, and looked up. She wasn't his typical type and almost twice his size, but he had agreed to this blind date to get himself out there, dive into the dating pool. It was summer, after all, and he still didn't have a girlfriend—he was desperate to couple up. But she was beautiful with large stunning eyes staring back at him. A sunflower seed dangled from her beak.

Sid gripped the side of the feeder harder, digging his claws into the metal. His throat was scratchy. Usually, he had no problem warbling confidently, but now he found he had a dry cotton beak.

"H-h-hi. I'm Sid," he croaked, his melodious voice hoarse and cracking. This was so embarrassing—blind date jitters.

Perched across from him, she trilled an avian giggle. Her round black eyes were playful yet kind. "I'm Nancy," she said with a ruffle of gray feathers.

Sid's heart skipped a beat. He was smitten. Get it together! Impress her! Be showy!

"So, um, you come here often?" He internally groaned at his horribly outdated and cheesy pick-up line. Why did he even say that?

Nancy twittered with laughter. "Actually, this is my first time at this feeder. I typically go for lawns, but this place does have great seeds." She pecked voraciously, her small, powerful bill ejecting shiny black sunflower seeds onto the ground.

Sid felt his tiny flaxen body relaxing. Maybe this will go well after all. He hopped closer to Nancy, stretching out his shiny black wings, hoping she'd notice this sudden burst of confidence.

"Well, since you love lawns, I could show you a great one." He bobbed his black cap in her direction. "It's just a little way over. We could have a fun little flight."

Nancy warbled happily, excitedly. The goldfinch and tufted titmouse dove off the feeder, catching a draft and soaring into the dazzling azure atmosphere. Puffs and wisps of cream clouds dotted the skies as Sid and Nancy twirled and swirled.

The hot summer air was fresh—wafts of bright sweetgrass and heady lilac tinged the breeze. The dazzling sun warmed Nancy's peach flanks and Sid's lemon rear. Their energy launched them into joyful pirouettes.

Sid's confidence finally returned as he bounced in flight, encircling Nancy in a flirtatious sky dance. Bright notes rushed from his throat in an optimistically seductive warble. Nancy responded in kind, acrobatically flitting, weaving, and bobbing around Sid's circles. She whistled happily—her bright peter-peter call complementing Sid's melodic trill.

Flushed and exhilarated, the little birds landed on lush turf—fresh, vivid green grass dotted with buttery golden puffs of dandelions. Two humans sat in the distance, a powder blue blanket serving as the canvas for their picnic.

Their mid-flight tango rejuvenated Sid. Springing from the lawn in one leap, he balanced delicately on the head of a dandelion—his body highlighting the saffron petals as it swayed. Chest puffed, black cap high, Sid waited for Nancy to drink up his seductive power move.

Her perky gray crest bobbed energetically as she pecked in the dirt.

Sid chirped. Ahem.

The gray tuft bolted up. Wriggling in her beak was the delicate thread-like body of a light green caterpillar. She gobbled it up in one happy swallow.

"Oh my gosh, this lawn is amazing!" she chirped. "Such a delicious dinner!"

Sid looked on—horrified. He stuck to a diet of pure seeds, and seeing Nancy gulp that bug made his tiny body retch. He held back before regurgitated seeds could spray from his beak.

"You eat—" Sid choked back. "You eat bugs?!" His incredulous tone stalled Nancy as a shiny black beetle squirmed—its six legs grappling to free itself from her mouth.

"Um, yeah. Don't you?" She stared at him pointedly. Sid stared back. His beady black eyes burned with judgment.

"I would never," he proclaimed in a huff.

Nancy glared at him.

"I was willing to overlook the fact that you're a titmouse, but bugs—that's where I draw the line."

Any ounce of attraction between them evaporated in a poof of sudden haughtiness.

"It's not like you're my type." Nancy twittered. "You should stick to other goldfinches, then." She skyrocketed in a flurry of gray.

Oh shit. Realizing he was a total ass, Sid bounded from the dandelion, grazed the green blades, and sped through the air. He had to apologize, at least.

Streaks of yellow and black collided in a ruby red shower. Dazed, Sid tumbled out of a wine glass.

In his haste and tunnel vision, he crashed directly into the humans' wine glasses. Deep red stains of Merlot soaked the blanket. Stunned and jilted, Sid shook his wings, vibrating droplets of wine off his body. The humans looked down at him, surprised yet laughing. This was so embarrassing—blind date failure.

He darted away. Nancy was long gone. Defeated and wine-soaked, he flew to the nearest birdbath to wash and wallow. As he landed, he noticed a pale goldfinch preening in the glistening water. Maybe this will go well after all.