CowbirdStory_ShannonMeserve

It was mid afternoon on a perfect summer day.  I remember the weather was exemplary. I recall the blue skies and bright sun particularly, because nothing tragic should ever happen on a day as beautiful as this one was.

I was about twelve and was reading a book on my porch. I remember it being particularly quite and peaceful, until I heard it. The sound of a bird chirping in a way I have never heard a bird chirp. It sounded like a desperate cry. I instantly knew what was creating the sound. I jumped up and ran to where I heard the pitiful sounds.  As I suspected, I saw a bright orange ball of fur hunched over whoever was generating the chirps. I stomped over to my menace of a cat and screamed frantically in his face. He bolted away in an orange blur full of terror.  I looked down hesitantly knowing I was not going to like what was at my feet.

The bird was little, small enough to fit into one of the palms of my hands.  It was not crying loudly anymore, only softly squeaking and shaking.  I sat down in the grass and scooped the little quivering ball into my hands. There was no blood but I realized the bird had gone through enough torment to have just minutes left to live. I saw it looking up at me and the fear in it’s eyes made me begin to cry.  How do you comfort a living thing, no matter how small, in it’s last minutes of life?  I had never experience the loss of life in the palm of my hands before, but knowing it was coming shortly only made me cry more.

I softly stroked it’s tiny feathers as I watched the bird slowly close it’s eyes. I felt the shivers subside and I looked up at the perfect, vast body of blue above me.  Nothing as tragic as this should happen on a day so perfect, but then again, I cannot imagine dying on a day any less beautiful as that.