It didn’t matter what I said, they insisted the bird could have blinded me! Then they said it was too sick to live! Baloney! I hated them saying this to me, for taking a living being of such beauty away from the world to be admired and marveled at.
A living being … a friend … I felt I had made a connection with.
This was adult thinking at its worst. The kind of overly cautious bullshit thinking that turned the magnificent creature I brought home for them to see …
with its gorgeous feathers and long powerful wings, the soft tapered miniature feathers on the crown of its head that blow so easily in the breeze, the gentle curve of its forehead extending to the long beak maybe 10 inches the pointed tip a spearhead he uses to impale small fish or bullfrogs that he tosses into the air catches and swallows.
… into an inanimate object its head and beak in profile against the sand, the black iris I had looked into less than an hour ago when I sensed its awareness, covered with an opaque film its lifeless eye and head and beak attached to a dead body covered by a mound of gray feathers lying flat against the sand waiting to be absorbed into the ground.
Less than an hour ago I was walking the gravel drive away from the docks minding my own business while, to my left the dog sloshed around in two feet of water trying to pick up the scent of some animal within a thick growth of cattails at the bottom.
Now here I was mourning the death of the bird I had grown so close to; feeling it, carrying it, looking into its eye, sharing my ”self” with it. Right then and there I made a promise to myself … I said it out loud, ”I promise myself that I will never grow up to become an adult.
And do you know what? continued …