Conversations With A Bird

It had been one of those days where the promise of a wonderful day has had the life sucked out of it by a visit to an ailing relative declining before my eyes. A therapeutic trip to the park on the way home with the addition of a liverwurst on rye with a slice of raw onion and mayo, a coke and cinnamon bun appeared to be the only way to retrieve the day from the discard pile.

Sitting at a picnic table minding my own business, an imperious little sparrow landed about 18” away from me. He gave me a look, turned his head to the side and said something in bird that seemed to infer that I obviously did not need this whole sandwich to sustain my existence. The bird advanced to within a foot of my sandwich. I found this to be highly irregular even for a New York City bird. Big Apple birds are not known for their manners, even in avian circles. Given that I was about 5500 times his weight and that he was easily within my reach, I found this to be a very aggressive and imprudent move. At first I just ignored his advances as he inched closer to my lunch. Finally, I blinked and relinquished, chipping off a small section and throwing it in his general direction. The bird did not even start, but immediately began to devour the sacrifice as if the delay had been an annoyance. Within seconds, two of his compatriots jumped down from some nearby hiding place. Now I was running a full-blown soup kitchen with the addition of these two confederates. Yes my own little microcosm of the Bowery mission! This was not shaping up to be one of those Aesop Fable type situations where, as a result of my munificence this bird would repay me someday by pecking a meter maid in the head as she tried in vain to give me a summons. No, this was an out and out protection racquet. FOOD FOR BENCH RIGHTS NOBODY GETS HURT!

At least if his plumage were beautiful with red, yellow and green feathers, or if the birds did a  little rockettes line, kicking their skinny legs in the air, but there would be none of that. This was out and out larceny.

Next came a pigeon. If any creature had less manners and more moxie than a sparrow it was a pigeon, colloquially known as a flying rat. Pigeons always traveled in flocks and I knew his gang of hoodlums were not far off. So I packed up knowing when I was beat. Of course, I left a puddle of coffee and a piece of cinnamon bun for desert it would only be right.

Jim L.

Dec. 2018