In this black and white vista of robins and wrens, there’s a splash of yellow that, when moving closer I realize, is a canary who clearly flew from her home window.
To say she looked happy with her cronies is an understatement, as they ate together like old friends.
So fascinated by the whole thing, I say to a man standing nearby, “Do you see that? It’s a canary.”
He doesn’t even look at me when he says, “Yeah, that bird won’t make it till noon.”
“Excuse me? What does that mean?”
“He’s a house bird, probably never been out of its cage. Either some hawk will grab it or some other animal.”
My calves and I were greatly upset by this grisly assessment.
“What can we do then, to help?”
“You got a net? Cause if not, bye bye birdie,” he snapped, before running off.
Good riddance you cynical asshole, but his words rang in my good ear like a Nazi air raid.
12 Step teaches you to pause before going nuts, so I sat on a bench, watching this beautiful feathered creature eat and preen like a pale yellow queen.
Nature, they say, takes care of its own so I thought, maybe her peers will help her along. Or maybe she’ll meet a guy, a bluejay perhaps, who, like a blue knight, will shield her from any danger. Yes, my imagination took flight, along with she and her friends I watched fly into the sky headed somewhere.
Sagaponack perhaps? The Vineyard? Or maybe they’ll just show her the sights around here.