BENNINGTON -- We're hours away from the only day of the year that begins with a number in conversation. 4th of July. We never say 9th of September or 18th of May or even 25th of December to signify Christmas.
July 4th? 4th of July. I suppose independence has earned a right to stand out from the rest. What's tomorrow? It's the 4th of July!
Anyway. What a curious and coincidental first hour of this morning, July 3:
° the dose'a NyQuil worked, awoke sans sniffles.
° woke up with Nelly Furtado's "Like A Bird" dancing in my head; sweet sweet song.
° Cubbies smacked the Sox 16-9; meaning they combined for 16 runs after the 5th.
° making a right turn in the parking lot, a car nearly barreled into mine; fucknutter.
° making a right turn out of the lot, a car speeding south on North almost smacked me; what is it with these fuckers today?; if it was my fault I'd take responsibility; wasn't so won't.
° woman walks into Stewart's all sad-like because a bird flew into the window and lay on the sidewalk in a state of shock. "It's probably because the windows are so clean," she said.
I walked outside and saw the bird on its left side -- its right wing flapped up once, slowly, then a second time, slower, but not a third time. I squatted next to it. Its right eye was wide open. I looked death right in the eye. Photographed the moment. Walked into Stewart's and got 2 coffee cups and went back out to scoop and nudge the bird into one of them.
Should I just throw it away? No. What if the bird is just concussed right now?
I felt weird about the prospect of dumping the bird in the trash bin. So I slid it into the other cup so that its head faced out in case -- just in case -- it was dazed and confused and placed the cup atop the bin.
Because my bird brain holds strong to the belief the bird will wake up and fly away.
Like Nelly Furtado.
July 4th? 4th of July. I suppose independence has earned a right to stand out from the rest. What's tomorrow? It's the 4th of July!
Anyway. What a curious and coincidental first hour of this morning, July 3:
° the dose'a NyQuil worked, awoke sans sniffles.
° woke up with Nelly Furtado's "Like A Bird" dancing in my head; sweet sweet song.
° Cubbies smacked the Sox 16-9; meaning they combined for 16 runs after the 5th.
° making a right turn in the parking lot, a car nearly barreled into mine; fucknutter.
° making a right turn out of the lot, a car speeding south on North almost smacked me; what is it with these fuckers today?; if it was my fault I'd take responsibility; wasn't so won't.
° woman walks into Stewart's all sad-like because a bird flew into the window and lay on the sidewalk in a state of shock. "It's probably because the windows are so clean," she said.
I walked outside and saw the bird on its left side -- its right wing flapped up once, slowly, then a second time, slower, but not a third time. I squatted next to it. Its right eye was wide open. I looked death right in the eye. Photographed the moment. Walked into Stewart's and got 2 coffee cups and went back out to scoop and nudge the bird into one of them.
Should I just throw it away? No. What if the bird is just concussed right now?
I felt weird about the prospect of dumping the bird in the trash bin. So I slid it into the other cup so that its head faced out in case -- just in case -- it was dazed and confused and placed the cup atop the bin.
Because my bird brain holds strong to the belief the bird will wake up and fly away.
Like Nelly Furtado.
No comments:
Post a Comment