A deafening bang. Then silence.
Is it thunder? Did something fall? What happened, Ashley??
“I’m on the edge of my seat, I need to know more!” you exclaim. ( I imagine)
To answer all of your questions, no. It is a bird.
A bird is lifeless on my doorstep, having hit the glass of my front door. Gray body, yellow wings, and claws frozen in a shocked position. Now the first time this happened, as saddened as I was, I was able to shrug it off. The second time…okay that’s kind of weird. Third time…nope, enough
. In my sixteen years of living in my house, not a single bird has died by hitting my window. Yet, in the past two months alone, I have found three dead birds on my doorstep and two dead birds on random occurrences. That’s five dead birds in the span of two months.
I am not a superstitious person. I don’t think you’ll get bad luck if you open an umbrella inside, or that you’ll be cursed if you break a mirror. Five dead birds, however, does have me reflecting on their lives and mine. So let me explain my takeaways from each one of them.
Bird 1: Ronald.
It was a perfect day in July; one of those days where the sky is painted a perfect baby blue, the grass a magnificent shade of green, and the restlessness to be outside could practically be felt in the breeze of the wind. I was on a walk with a friend, talking about whatever teenagers talk about, when weak motion on the concrete caught my eye. There is nothing quite as unsettling as the bright blue on gray, dull floor. Ronald, I’l call him, had clearly fallen out of his nest. Wing bent at a grotesque angle, Ronald weakly fluttered his wings to no avail. The nest he had fallen out of was nowhere in sight so I was stuck with two conflicting options:
leave him to die all alone, or take him home with me and have him face the wrath of my saint bernard. I chose the former. I gently placed him on the branch of a tree, and walked home. Gut wrenching. I cannot justify my actions. I could have done more for him, but I had chosen not to. Was I being lazy? Was I just pessimistic of the outcome?
“It’s what happens in nature Ashley, just let it be.” my friend said as we continued walking.
Ronald died alone, scared, and in pain. But what my friend said has merit; so goes nature. Ronald taught me that life is inexplicably short, and it is hardly ever fair to the organisms in it. To live each day like it could be your last, finding enjoyment in daily tasks, is the greatest way to live.
Bird 2,3, 4: Daisy, Drake, and George.
I often wonder if birds have souls. What were these three birds thinking when they hit the glass pane of my door? They had flown into the glass with such confidence of where they were heading, that they failed to see their own reflections growing ever larger in the glass. Similarly, I often chase this idealized image that others have of me, failing to see my own reflection. You lose yourself chasing the dreams others have for you or letting your dreams stay static. Your reflection only grows bigger as you near the glass. You cannot ever truly escape yourself. At some point, you will have to face the person you are, and accept them for their flaws.
Bird 5: Park
I found Park as I was walking into the Naperville Public Library. Ignored amongst the rush of people passing her by, it was a saddening sight. I don’t know how Park died, why she was in the middle of the sidewalk, or how long she had been there, which discomfited me. Outwardly, there were no wounds, or sores that would indicate a sick bird. I assume she had a disease of some sorts – something she was battling from the inside. I was another passerby, noticing and moving on. Park was a bird, and I am human. We cannot communicate with one another, yet struggle is universal. My takeaway from Park was this: Everyone faces inner demons that outsiders do not see. Reaching out for help is strength, and being gentle with others is everything.
So there you have it, the story of my five dead birds, and the lessons I learned from them.