I’ve always been a collector, especially of small things. I’ve had shadowboxes to corral them in since I was a girl. Other than being wee, there wasn’t always a unifying theme to the things I collected, though small animal figurines keep showing up in every grouping. Some of them were outgrown as I got tired of them or lost interest: the dogs I adored as a child, the cow-themed things I had for awhile after college, the thankfully short pink flamingo phase. The only real collection in my house that is worthy of the name is in the moose bathroom, but I really don’t LOOk for them myself. They just tend to come to me. And I don’t buy every single one in sight: they have to speak to me somehow; they have to be special.
During the pink flamingo phase, someone gave me a glass swizzle stick with a pink flamingo atop it. Since I don’t drink, swizzle sticks aren’t something I come across often or use, ever. But this one stuck around, and after awhile he acquired some companions. I’ve always had a soft spot for glass animals. My little glass feathered friends sit in a glass jar in a cupboard in the kitchen and once in a while I remember they are there and take them out and admire their miniature cleverness and detail. Every now and then, I’ll run across a bird I haven’t seen before and the aviary on posts will grow by one more.
How many items does it take to make a collection? Three? Five? Nine? There are 10 of them now, since that first winged species-on-a-stick came into my possession in the early 80s: a toucan, a blue cockatoo, a whooping crane, a seagull, a parrot, swan twins in black & white plus a coscoroba swan, a canary, an unidentified white bird with a big red beak and the pink flamingo that started it all.
Feels Good to Know: Sweden is the 3rd Best Country to Live in
*Title from a quote by Aesop