Anna: My Somewhat Bildungsroman

So I've come to the conclusion that I need to grow up. I'm still seventeen years old (technically not even an adult yet), but I'm about to start college. I'll have to manage my own money, remind myself to do my homework, do my own washing, wake myself up in the morning. Now I have to keep careful track of all my bank account dealings and make sure my debit card doesn't mysteriously run out on a sudden shopping spree. I'll half to find work soon, and find a way to come up with $10,000 dollars so that I can pay for winter and spring term of school.

In short, I'll have to take care of myself.

This conclusion came to me in the most unlikely instance, as well. Yesterday, I went down into Oregon City with my aunt and her boyfriend to do a little amateur birdwatching. Apparently, some swiffs are migrating south from Alaska, and they like to stop in chimneys along the way. So we drove down there and waited on the side of a road for 20 minutes to a half hour before the first of them started to emerge from over the hill, across the Willamette River. At first, there weren't that many. It was difficult to point them out in the sky- they're real tiny things. Hummingbird sized, or maybe even smaller. But gradually, very gradually, more and more flew over the river to join the rest of the flock. We could hear their small chirp chirps as they flew in random patterns over us.

It was like an airshow. My neck hurt from craning upwards so much, but I didn't mind. I kept watching as more and more swiffs joined the flock. They wove through each other, pretzeling around in the air. In the end, there must have been hundreds of them circling the city, waiting to take residence in the designated chimney for the night. There was a hawk waiting at said chimney, planning to catch its evening meal when it tried to escape into the dark brick structure.

The swiffs were wary, and consequentially refused to rest for the night. Over and over, again and again, they whirled around the chimney in a vortex, every so often unwinding like a fine ribbon or a delicate French pastry. I was mesmerized. I just stood there like an idiot, watching then wind and unwind, daringly swooping closer to the chimney only to ascend once more.

But it couldn't last. The hawk triumphed. I consider myself lucky that I didn't see the actual kill. I had averted my attention to the stragglers, the swiffs who flew uncertainly outside of the vortex, slightly breaking formation. But when I heard the distressed chirp chirping of a swiff, I swivelled my head back. The hawk was flying away, a swiff desperately chirping its last, as its fellow swiffs swarmed and chased the hawk away in rage. There was much agitation in the air at that moment. After the hawk escaped with its conquest, the swiffs swarmed around in confusion. It wasn't long before opportunity reared its head, however, and then suddenly the airshow was over. The vortez turned into a twister and the massive cloud began to descend into the chimney. Within minutes, it was over. They were safely inside, and the sun had descended beneath the horizon.

To resurrect my point from several paragraphs ago, it was at this time I told myself, "Anna, just grow up." I'm not going to make any poetic metephors about the swiffs, or spin any beautiful lies about how I was struck to the core and turned my life around from that point. Simple. "Anna, just grow up." Then I got back in the car, went back to my grandma's house and continued working on my Sudoku puzzle.

I don't really know what I'm trying to say. I just need to grow up. I don't know why I realized it when I saw the swiffs, but I did. So now I would like to ask a favor of all of you. If you ever hear me complaining again, unless its for something really important (and I mean really important, like financially crippling important or something) just tell me to shut up and grow up. Because I can't do what I have to do if I'm always relying on someone else to pat my head and tell me sweet words about how its okay, when I really just need to get something done by myself. So please just do that for me. Tell me to grow up.