Storytime: Joseph the Technicolored Bird

(None of these are Joseph- Birds from the St. Louis Zoo 2010-2012)

The clear water, browned like hot water colored by seeping tea leaves, was darkest underneath the porch of the mill house which stood in the river on cement pillars. I leaned over the railing and watched the white froth from the roaring waterfall at my left swirl around under my suspended feet. The air smelled fresh with spray from the cool water and the smell of loamy green earth being warmed in the sun. I had never stood on Dr. Luther's porch before, despite the many years I grew up visiting Head of the River for family reunions. I liked seeing the river from a new angle. My whole life I had looked at the river from the landing near the waterfall and from the bank where my grandparents' house stood. I had seen the river from the opposite side where I could stand on the island Dr. Luther had built and look across at our family house. I had watched the water from further down stream where the river flowed on its long journey to the sound. I had canoed on, swam in, caught baby eels in, walked in, lived and breathed in that river, but I had never before stood on Dr. Luther's Mill house porch that was suspended over the river.

I was ten years old when we moved in with my grandparents, Lili and Obi, my dad's parents. Their three story house with seven bathrooms and at least that many bedrooms was situated at the source of the Nisaquague river on Long Island. We lived for one year on the second floor of their house and then when my mom started feeling crowded we moved into the guest house near the three car garage for another year. My little brother was born there and he was given the middle name “Luther” in honor of my grandparents' neighbor.

Dr. Luther was the long time, beloved neighbor of my dad's family. My dad considered him to be a second father. He lived in the mill house. The mill house, like all river mills, was situated directly next to the waterfall that poured water from the spring fed lake into the river. I remember going into his house once and noticing that all of his furniture on the first floor was connected to ropes hooked to the ceiling. The river had a habit of overflowing its banks at high tide after a lot of rain. When the water rose we could canoe around my grandparents' yard and dock at the kitchen steps, but Dr. Luther's mill house was directly over the river so the water rose right into his living room. The pulleys on his furniture allowed him to haul the couches up and dangle them over the flooded living room floor.
One day Dr. Luther came to me and told me he was going on vacation for a week.

“Would you please fill the bird feeder on my porch every day while I am gone?” he asked. “The birds have become accustomed to me providing food for them and I would like to keep it up while I am gone. I will pay you.”

Of course I said yes. The job sounded easy and for a ten year old, a chance for making money was rare and exciting. The first day, I filled the long tubular bird feeder from the birdseed sack that Dr. Luther left for me in his tool shed and then I stayed on the porch looking down into the water. The jewel green Mallard ducks with their brown and white speckled wives gathered as soon as I had filled the feeder. I was responsible for throwing stale bread and extra seed to the ducks that congregated down below so I threw crumbs and watched the birds dart their beaks at the water, eating hungrily. The ducks' orange webbed feet moved in circle eights underneath their buoyant bodies. A black and white cormorant or two joined in the feasting.

I lifted my head to gaze downstream at the weeping willows drawing their graceful branches over the river and a large green and white bird caught my eye. It was swimming slowly, but purposefully, towards the mill house. I watched it approach, wondering at the size of the duck-like bird. Finally it reached me and swam under the porch, then swam back out looking up towards me. I threw it some crumbs and the bird ate, but more slowly than the smaller birds.

“What kind of bird is that?” I wondered. It sort of looked like a duck. It was shaped the same, but it was at least twice as big as the Mallards. I had never seen a bird like this on our river before. The head and neck were white, the beak was almost black, the eyes were dark, but rimmed in red and the body was green with patches of blue and purple throughout the feathers. I watched the strange bird for a while even after the crumbs were gone and admired the bird's size and interesting colors. He was such a contrast to the other birds and he was swimming alone so I decided to name him. I chose the name Joseph because it was one of my favorite names and because his feathers reminded me of Biblical Joseph's “coat of many colors.”

The next day Joseph was there waiting with the other birds when I got home from school. I chatted to Joseph and watched him swim around for almost an hour before going back to my house. My mom and dad, who grew up in the area and were familiar with the animals that lived there, did not know what kind of bird he was either. Neither of them would come with me to look at him, but I described Joseph the best I could and they said the description was unfamiliar. Joseph was there every day that I fed the birds. I always wondered why he was alone, or even if he was a “he”, but considering most male birds are more colorful than their female counterparts I assumed Joseph was in fact a male. Sometimes I imagined that his mate died a tragic death and he was wandering the river looking for her. That story made me pity him, and, adding to the fact that I liked him best anyway, I would toss him an extra portion of bread. By the end of the week, I was so thankful that I had such an interesting guest while I did my job I imagined maybe God sent him to visit me especially just to make me happy. I thought about Joseph at school and couldn't wait to go home and feed the birds so I could see him again.

Then Dr. Luther came home so my duty was too soon over. He thanked me and paid me. I told him about Joseph, but Dr. Luther had never seen such a bird visit the river before either. I thought it was strange that Dr. Luther, who practically lived IN the river and fed those same birds every day had never seen this particular bird, but after all the research and wondering, I decided that Joseph was a special gift only to me.

Joseph only visited the river during the time I was feeding the birds for Dr. Luther. Every day for a week after I stopped feeding, I ran to the river after school to see if Joseph would be there, but I never saw him again, nor to this day have I ever seen another bird like it in real life or even in a photograph.


(Dr. Luther's Mill House with view of the porch on which I stood to feed the birds. I visited HOTR in 2010. This is looking to the Mill house from my late grandparents' former yard. The river is at high tide, but every day I fed the birds, it was at low-mid tide. Here is an article I came across that describes Dr. Luther and the Mill house in more detail.)