lately i've been thinking that i am not one of those people things 'happen' to. i didn't think of myself as one who has specific experiences worth describing.
well today, that's not true!
i was walking zoe, and i saw a flapping on the ground. i stop, look around confusedly while a car slowly drives by and the driver looks confusedly at me looking confused. i turn around and crouch down to see the tiniest bird, breathing so fast you'd think i was norman bates. it's leg was twisted unnaturally below its body... it looked scared.
i stared at it for five minutes, rapidly going over scenarios in my head. do i leave it and wonder how it lived out the rest of its short life, feeling massively guilty? do i take it to cary st emergency hospital and have them look at me like i'm retarded for bringing in a common bird?
it's rare that you get to see a bird that close up. it's teeny tiny fuzzy feathers and throbbing of its chest destroyed me. i didn't care if i got laughed at, i had to do something. i went to pick it up, and as soon as it was entirely in my hand, it flew up and away over a fence, about 20 feet from me. it tried to land on a branch. failed. it tried to land again, and failed. it fell.
at least it's no longer in an alley but in someone's nice back yard.
i feel humbled. the image and feeling of its tiny skeleton and pumping chest are imprinted in my mind. i wish it didn't have to suffer. mortality is a sobering thing.
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