Arya Flew Over the Rooftops, Again. Was This His Flight of Freedom?

Hoping against hope for his safe return. But the better part of me apprehends that Arya might have taken a majestic flight of freedom.

“Well I wish I could be like a bird in the sky/How sweet it would be/If I found I could fly/I'd soar to the sun/And look down at the sea/And I sing 'cause I know/How it feels to be free.”

—Nina Simone, “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free” (1967).

Arya the Cockatiel (Nymphicus hollandicus) on top of the coffee table and 2) Arya on top of his cage while eating. Photos by Perry J. Greenbaum, 2024

Sad news. Arya the Cockatiel is gone. It happened when I was talking to and feeding one of the blue jays that frequent my front yard. It was Friday at around 2:15 pm, and Arya was on my left shoulder, having flown over as he always does when I am at the front door. The blue jay let out a few vocalizations and Arya jumped off my shoulder while I was standing at the doorway, made a few vocalizations himself, flew in a small circle in front of me and then flew toward the backyard and up over the rooftops. The last that I saw of him was of Arya the Cockatiel heading east.

I stood frozen in place and speechless before I realized what just took place. It seemed like time stopped and I was in a trance. But in reality it was only mere seconds. My pleas and screams to return were ignored. Arya flew higher and higher, farther and farther. Our family searched for him in the neighbourhood, at the park, under cars. Everywhere.

I am heartbroken and inconsolable and had a terrible night of sleep. You all know my bond with Arya, my beautiful and faithful avian companion. I am still hoping that we will be reunited. That either Arya will soon find his way home. Somehow. Some might say Arya is “just” a bird. While I understand this sentiment, I don’t agree with it one iota. Arya is a friend and a companion, an avian companion. A beautiful one, too.

So, yes, this is an emotional and difficult time for me, as I grieve Arya’s lack of presence, a presence that I have enjoyed for five years. There is so much about him that I miss already, which I will write about in future posts. Arya is a special bird. Yet, even as I have these strong emotions reside inside of me, I have others that want to have their say. So, here goes. Perhaps there is another side to Arya’s flying over the rooftops. Perhaps Arya, and birds in general, need to live free. Perhaps birds are meant to live outdoors in the wilderness, replete with all of its dangers. When I saw Arya fly higher and higher, yes, I was desperate that he would turn around and return to me. To safety and to familiarity.

I still hope against hope that he will. But I must reconcile the idea that Arya is a bird, one whom I love dearly, and the sight of him flying, yes away from me, is a beautiful and natural sight. The sight and flight of freedom. I love Arya the Cockatiel. I also love the idea that Arya took a flight of freedom. I accept that birds love to be in the air and with and among other birds. Birds of a feather.

Cockatiels are a flock species; he would be at home in Australia, where cockatiels originate. It is not natural for cockatiels to live here in Toronto, to be bred into captivity.¹ Arya might now be where he belongs, where he is free under his own terms, even if it means that we are no longer together. It is painful; it is sad; it is a heartbreaking and painful truth that I need to consider, especially if I say I love him, which I do. Yet, and yes, it might just be what Arya wants. It meets his reality, his avianness, his bird being.

I had to write this; I felt strongly that I had to do so. I do not necessarily feel better, but I at least shared my thoughts and feelings. I am trying to cope the best that I can. I will likely share more at another time. Soon. I will end with a song, as I usually do. The song that comes to mind is that rock classic, by Steve Miller Band, “Fly Like an Eagle,” the second track on the same-named album, released on May 14, 1976. This is an earlier pre-recorded version performed on Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert [1973-1981], recorded at New York’s Palace Theatre in 1973. It has a more ethereal, other-worldly feel to it.

I want to fly like an eagle
To the sea
Fly like an eagle
Let my spirit carry me

Merci et à bientôt
Born at 315 ppm
Now at 425 ppm

1. Cockatiels (Nymphicus hollandicus) originate and are indigenous to Australia. I have mixed feelings on birds bred in captivity, and then sold for profit. While I am now generally against such an enterprise, I can understand that birds already bred in captivity, and then abused, should find a healthy place where they can find healing and love from a human companion. I can understand that my current views will not be acceptable to everyone.