Birdy

Saturday morning. Walking down the stairs, crossing the road with the garbage bag in my hand. Garbage bag disposed. Who decides when the garbage bin is full?- I asked myself when I turned back and on my way to the bicycle my attention was drawn to the sand in the square around a tree. Two little birds were playing in the sand and it seemed like they were having the time of their lives. They were sitting opposite of each other slightly above the ground with fluttering wings and they tried to put their legs and toes on the top of each other's. It was like two kids playing in the bath tub. Everything in constant motion. Spring has arrived too fast - I thought.

It took like a minute when the birds got up and were flying away. I tried to follow them with my eyes as long as I could. The birds continued their dancing in the air, looking, almost touching each other and totally forgetting about the outside world. They didn't even realize that they were flying above the road, and that a car was approaching... And then it happened. The car hit one of the little happy birds.  I couldn't believe what I just saw.

The car left (did the driver realize what happened at all?) and I ran in the middle of the road to pick up this almost invisible, fragile creature. It was lying in my palm and I was staring at it. What if the bird dies now, I thought. What do I do with it? I was looking at it and trying to see the damage. Her eyes were moving, no blood, all good signs but wings and legs motionless. While holding this precious thing, I remembered what my bass guitar teacher once told me about hand position, I had to imagine there was a small bird between my fingers and the fretboard. I never imagined a bird with such beautiful feathers.  

Then the bird slowly opened her eyes and it stood up in my hand, but there was still no fear, no urge to go. And it didn't feel right. We stood there for some time, me and the bird in my hand, passing bikers looking at us with a question mark on their faces, and I was just hoping the bird would fly away. It didn't happen, and then I did the most terrible thing or not, I took my camera and thinking no matter how this story would end, the beauty of the bird must stay. At the end, I placed the standing, but still recovering bird to the side of the sand square, where I first saw them, and I left.

When I came back this evening, I went to the same place to look for any signs of the bird. The bird was gone. While walking upstairs, I thought it was a good thing to consider the bin full today.