Foreword. I wrote this three decades ago, but never published it, until now, here. It is an idealized romantic fiction. A reader of my poems reported them to be Pollyannish. A new term for me. It is, I learned from my interlocutor, a reference to irrepressible optimism in the face of grim realities, as expressed by the author of Pollyanna, 1913. Well, you must dream to survive.
SEAN and LADY NIGHTHAWK, by Michael J. Papay
Sean looked into the evening sky, and from far below saw nighthawks gracefully winging through the dusky air. They swooped and whirred and climbed and dove so contentedly that Sean was enraptured with their cavorting flight. He longed to join them in the warm night air high above the glimmering lights of the city. A sadness settled upon his chest, for he realized the he could not join them. Still, his eyes wavered not as the nighthawks performed their evening ballet in the sky. "They are beautiful" he told himself. "What marvelous grace they have in form and flight."
As Sean gazed into the sky he was so captivated that he did not see one of the nighthawks disengage from the rest, descend, and alight gracefully atop the railing next to him. "Would you not like to join the assembly above and wing freely through the beautiful night air?" asked a soft, mellifluous voice. Sean mistook this for a thought posed by his imaginative mind, but all the same, he dreamily replied, "Yes, I would." Contentedness then settled happily on Sean's face. "Close your eyes" cooed the alluring voice. Sean obligingly closed his eyes. "Now open them" trilled the voice gaily.
Sean opened his eyes and discovered to his astonishment that he had become a nighthawk. Too, he discovered that the owner of the voice that had spoken to him was not his imaginative mind, rather it belonged to the sensuous, lithe Lady Nighthawk perched lightly atop the railing next to him. "Come" she said. "The rest of the world has opened up to you." With that she flicked her lengthy wings gracefully and darted into the night sky.
Sean, overwhelmed with elation, immediately spread his wings, and with surprising grace and ease, launched himself into the air to join the other nighthawks in their evening symphony of flight. Sean soared, swooped, churred, and dove with purring exultation. The other nighthawks rejoiced with him, treating the spectators far below to a spectacular opera in the sky. But few below watched. Very few indeed.
When the sun had finally sent its last rays over the horizon against the heavens, the nighthawks reluctantly drifted down from their lofty theater and alighted in the boughs of the tallest tree that remained in the suburbs of the metropolis. Sean was perched near a few other nighthawks, and because of his recent introduction to their wonderful world, his excitement would not let him sleep. "You have a wonderful world up here" he said to all those settled for the night near him.
"Yes, it is a wonderful life" replied a sleepy nighthawk perched slightly above him. "But it's been better you know." This last sentence was uttered quietly, and Sean wasn't sure he had heard his newfound compatriot correctly. "Better did you say? Are you sure? This is the most wondrous time I've ever known" Sean offered with honest enthusiasm. A few of the other nighthawks rustled slightly, wanting very much to get on with sleeping since there was so much flying to do the next day. However, the same nighthawk responded, "The sky is not what it once was. Not as clean I mean. This was a good night. Wonderful indeed. But we were fortunate tonight."
Quite perplexed, Sean asked "But what has happened to the sky?" The night had been so blissfully exhilarating that he was alarmed that the purity of his newfound element might be blemished even in the slightest degree.
"Many things" replied a chorus of nighthawks that yet remained awake because of the restless newcomer. "There is the dreadful smoke from the smelting plant on the west side" continued one voice. "And the acrid smoke of the electric plant on the east side" replied another. "Not to mention the odorous stacks of innumerable businesses crammed in on the north side" added yet another.
"This is horrible" despaired Sean. "But why was the air so pure and pleasant this evening?"
"Because the wind arose from the south, where, thankfully, there are still extensive forests that stretch almost unbroken to the coast" said a nighthawk tiredly, as sleep descended relentlessly upon him. "Let us hope the south wind stays with us for a few more days" he whispered as he slipped into soothing unconsciousness.
That night Sean could not sleep because so much energy filled his mind and body from the experience of his new world and the discovery of its endangerment. When all the other nighthawks had fallen asleep, Sean quietly slipped away into the moonlit night, and flew eastward.
Over the city hew flew. Over his hometown. Over the roads glimmering with street lamps and headlights of traffic. After a while there loomed in the distance huge, towering chimneys, each with ominous red beacons at their pinnacle. "That must be the electric factory" Sean said to himself. He winged in for a closer view. Suddenly, however, he was engulfed in noxious, foul air that began suffocating him. Sean coughed and sneezed and desperately tried to turn this way and that to exit the invisible cloud, but to no avail. Sapped of strength, his wings failed him, and his limp form plunged earthwards, spinning towards oblivion.
To his great fortune this was exactly what Sean had needed to do, and as he entered clean air below, oxygen returned to his body, his wings strengthened, and his flight instinctively leveled off. He emerged wheezing and coughing, yet much the wiser for his misadventure.
Now satisfied of the veracity of the appalling atmospheric conditions on the east side, Sean winged northwest towards the business community he knew so well. As he had expected, the air there was not so bad. But then he realized it was night time, and that the businesses operated during the day. So, the air he now breathed had only residual pollutants from those generated during business hours. It was an area that he would have to come back to.
Admittedly with fatigue beginning to weigh upon him, Sean turned and flew southwest towards the smelting factory of the west side. Again, tall chimneys loomed ahead, each with a flashing red light at its summit. Wisened by his experience at the electric factory, Sean approached from low level, yet still could not avoid the periphery of unpleasant gritty stinking air that blanketed the sky above. Greatly depressed by his findings, Sean could no longer ignore the fatigue of his body and the great need for sleep that tried to settle upon his brain. Late in the night, or rather early in the morning, a very tired nighthawk relocated his companions, and after alighting with great care so as not to disturb them, joined them in rapturous sleep.
When morning arrived, Sean heard a familiar mellifluous voice address him. "Wake up Sean" it whispered warmly in lovely, soft repetition. Soon he was awake, and he stretched and shook his wings to get the circulation back through them. Sean saw before him the beautiful, demure Lady Nighthawk whom had invited him into the world of nighthawks last night. "Thank you for being so kind" Sean said with real warmth and gratitude. "I have never been so happy in all my life as when we flew together. But your world is in grave danger".
"It is your world too" she replied with affection, yet she had detected in his words that he would be leaving, and her eyes glistened with sadness.
"Yes" Sean said, his heart choking in his throat. "You have welcomed me into your world. You have enlightened me. And, I have fallen deeply in love with you. So, I must try to put a stop to the polluting that kills the sky, that endangers you, and all the nighthawks."
"Please tell me that you will come back some day" pleaded lady nighthawk. Now a tear rolled over her soft cheek feathers.
Sean moved closer, and put a comforting wing around her. "Not some day" he said, "but every day. No night shall pass where we do not have the comfort of each other's company."
Lady nighthawk cried with delight. After a few moments, they disembarked from the great old tree that was the nighthawk roost, and descended to the railing where they had first made acquaintance. There they touched wings, then Lady Nighthawk gracefully darted away, and spiraled high into the fresh morning sky to join her companions. After watching her a moment, Sean closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was once again a man standing at a balcony railing.
Ever since that momentous day, Sean campaigned heartfully for cleaner air. Years passed with the young lovebirds rendezvousing each night, and regretfully departing at the dawn of each day. By and by, however, Sean's efforts came to satisfactory fruition. The air was breathable no matter the direction of the wind. So, one pleasant spring night, Sean closed his eyes for the last time as a man, and opened them forever as a nighthawk.
Amongst the nighthawks, chimney swifts, swallows, martins, flycatchers, warblers, and nuthatches, and amongst all the birds that migrate or converse with those that do, Sean and Lady Nighthawk are highly acclaimed. Each night, somewhere, high in the sky over cities and towns, you may see the nighthawks swooping, whirring, climbing, diving, churring and cavorting. And amongst them is the happiest couple that the world has ever known. Sean and Lady Nighthawk.
Reflections: Just as much as we need materials and technology that foster our lives and comfort, we need clean air, clean water, and clean land for our continued sustenance. It is a simple fact, and a difficult balance to find. Nevertheless, we must continue to try to find it. That is all.