Where is my bird girl? She came and went.

I run on the marsh. The bleak expanse of brush and sky. My life comes to me - my family appearing suddenly as birds, when I am spent and least expect it. My mother, brown blackbird, sharp eyes. My grandmother a magpie high in the branches chattering disapproval and excitement. My father, the kingfisher, darting through the barge sails in the shipyard, never settling.