Monday, May 18, 2009

Pink Baby Bird

I had been dismissing this poor little fella as a piece of bubble gum.

It had been lying in the eaves gutter outside my window for quite some time, and because a bunch of leaves had clogged it, Al was out there the other day and pointed it out to me.
"Yeah", I said. "It's bubblegum".
And it wasn't. It was a tiny baby bird.

When I told my mother, she asked me jokingly: "What is it with you and birds?". And then she reminded me of a time when I was living in my apartment in Copenhagen and a whole brood of ducklings were swimming back and forth in the eaves gutter of the building opposite my house. They were swimming in a neat little row, and whenever they reached the end of the gutter, they would do a 180 and swim back where they came from, and so they continued, back and forth.

The mama duck was standing on the ground, some ten meters below them, calling for them, I guess. And every once in a while one of them would peek over the edge of the gutter and fall down: "Flop!"

My mother reminded me that I was crying, because I found it all so sad.
"Whatever happened to them, do you remember?", I asked her.
"I think they survived", she said. "They're just like light little shuttlecocks, you know".

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