So I didn’t need the bio-suit after all.

May 12th, 2006  |  Published in old and busted

I was so preoccupied with cleaning the bird corpse off the porch yesterday, visions of flaming avian flu-plague victim pyres dancing in my head, that I didn’t take a moment to examine the front of the house. Specifically, I didn’t look at the window where, smack in the middle, a small clot of feathers was stuck to the glass.

Birds do that, you know … they see their reflections and attack, bashing their little bird heads against the glass. A cursory search on the topic included assertions from Cornell ornithologists that drunkenness from the consumption of fermented berries deinhibits them a little, but that the main issue seems to be a disadvantageous perceptual apparatus. Another site maintained that homes with bird feeders can expect 1 to 10 deaths a year from window bashing.

So, to reconsider yesterday’s entry, we have to move the dead bird event out of the category of omenly things and find a new category.

Considering some of yesterday’s headlines, I’m gonna go with “parable.”

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