There it was…in a jewelry store window…and I’ve never really been the kind of guy who wears jewelry. But it was very cool. It was made of some sort of ivory or marble or something. Whatever it was, I couldn’t loosen my gaze on the orange bird.

I was strolling through a shopping district in Kansas City on a date with a girl (who will remain nameless), and it was right around this time of year. Christmas…and as a songwriter I know very well put it… “the shoppers did that shuffle that they do when the snowflakes fall”. The air was brisk but very bearable. Christmas lights shined a rainbow in the sky, and decorations of metallic glass were hanging off leafless tree limbs.

Conversation wasn’t forced, but it wasn’t exactly free-flowing yet either. Both of us knew we were enjoying the evening, but we still didn’t know each other well enough to have anything in common to talk about. So, we made small talk…at first.

Then, we passed by a jewelry store window framed in contrasting blond brick and gold lamé stone. Tiny white, blinking Christmas lights also meandered around the frame of the window. There were some elegant watches, diamond earrings, and the usual gold jewelry displayed on rich, burgundy velvet. There was even a diamond pendant attached to what appeared to be a miniature Aspen limb.

But what really caught my eye…what stood out in the midst of all that was an orange bird. It looked like it was made of polished ivory, but it was orange. Could it be marble? Could it be some rare orange jade or onyx or sapphire? No, that just didn’t make sense.

I commented to my date about how beautiful it was. She totally agreed. It was, by far, the least expensive item in the display. And yet…I thought it was the most unique. It stood out by artful comparison. My imagination kicked in, as it so often did back then, and I could see words taking form…even a song.

We walked on, enjoyed dinner and a movie, and I drove her home. There were only a few more dates with this lovely girl, and we somehow drifted apart. You know how those things go. But the story didn’t end there.

A few weeks later, on Christmas, I got out of bed, showered and dressed, and headed out the front door to visit family for the day. On my doorstep was a greeting card with my name on the front. I looked around and didn’t see anyone. So, I opened the card and read a very touching message next to a tiny drawing of a bird flying through the air. The message will remain a mystery, but here’s the cool thing. The orange bird I saw weeks earlier, in the jewelry store window, dropped out of the envelope. It was a necklace.

Like I said…I don’t really wear jewelry…but I wore that orange bird around my neck several times before retiring it to one of my memory boxes. Somewhere, sometime…I don’t know where or when, the orange bird was lost. But not before I wrote this song…

Orange Bird

Over the treetops and under the heavens,
There soars the orange bird,
The symbol of regal desire.
With figurehead poise he drifts through the azure,
His eyes peering downward
For traces of hope he requires.
Orange bird in the sky…oh you’re blinding my eyes.
Your countenance keeps me intact.
Though you hang ’round my neck, and I imagine your trek…
To me you’re not fiction, you’re fact.
A handsome medallion in a jewelry store window
Has caught my attention,
And I’m lost in a daydream awhile.
But the sight of the orange bird with mandarin feathers
Whose lifestyle I envy
Is enough to make me silently smile.

© 1974 Tony Funderburk

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