Blackbird, fly...
into the light of a dark black night
Hello. This post is about Death & Birds.
Last Spring, David rushed outside to break up a scuffle between a pair of male Blackbirds who looked as though they were fighting to the Death. The Blackbirds parted ways, but one stayed perched on a branch nearby, with one of his legs at an angle which it never should have been. He could still fly, so we had no chance of catching him, but he and David developed quite the bond over the following weeks.
In the early mornings David would put seeds down and then stand or sit on the lawn to keep watch as Beaky (we named him Beaky) stood next to him, eating—seemingly in acknowledgement of the unspoken pact they shared; that David would now look out for him. It’s interesting, how two beings who do not share a spoken language can enjoy such uncomplicated communication.