Song of the Mockingbird: My Journey with Josefina

I take a deep breath and tell Josefina I’m okay to keep going. My basket isn’t even half-full, but Josefina looks concerned only a moment before I start picking rabbit-brush blossoms again. She joins me, and we work together quietly, filling our baskets. Nothing can faze me now.

Soon our baskets are brimming. Josefina picks the last cluster of blossoms and straightens, plenty for Teresita. She squints into the distance and says we’re near the piñón grove, then asks if I’d like to gather piñón nuts to see if they’re ripe. Papá would be surprised and pleased if we came home with some early.

I love pine nuts. Pasta with pine-nut pesto is one of my favorite foods, and if they grow on trees around here, I want to check. But just as I say so, I hear a familiar song nearby: the song of the mockingbird.

My heart almost stops. It’s the same song that brought me to Josefina’s world. Josefina sees my wide eyes and thinks I’m afraid, but reminds me it’s only a bird. I nod, breathe out, and without thinking take the flute from my pouch and hold it tightly.

I spot the bird on a spray of sagebrush, its gray breast swelling as it sings again. I sneak closer. It hops along the branch, fixes one liquid black eye on me, then spreads its wings and flies farther off. I want to hear the song again, and the clay flute feels warm in my hand, like I could play it back. But I remember Josefina is excited about the piñón nuts, and I don’t want to disappoint my friend.