Have you ever heard the saying about how a bird hitting your window means someone is going to die? If that's true, The birds around our house are the death omens of half the city. I swear, it's an almost daily occurrence around here. It's not like my windows are all that clean either. Between the kids and the kittens, there are plenty of prints on them. I am mystified by this. Do they really not see the giant house in front of them? Maybe it's their reflection they're attacking, but is that really any smarter? I know, I know. Birds aren't known for their large brains. Hence, the phrase "bird brain". Still, you'd think after the first half a dozen or so had made impact, word would have gotten around in the avian community. Apparently not. See the photo below.
Can you see the imprint left by this unfortunate soul? I mean, the poor bird had to have hit the window head on to have left a mark like that. You can't tell from the picture, but up close, you can see the fine details on each individual feather. Wings, breast, head. There's even one tiny white feather that's stuck to the glass and refuses to blow away or be washed off by the rain. I looked for a body, because I honestly didn't think it could have walked..er...flown...away from something like that. No body. I must admit I'm impressed. Maybe because it was a larger bird. Probably one of the mourning doves or a robin.
The other day, I heard one hit the front window. I went out to check and found a sparrow on the porch. I picked it up and it opened its eyes. She was merely stunned, I guess. She got her wits about her (if she had any left) and flew off. Probably to smash into someone else's window. At least she didn't leave an imprint on mine. The only thing I saw there were the muddy bird footprints from a few weeks ago where some other bird (slightly brighter than the rest) must have realized at the last second that it had misjudged and glanced off the window. Honestly.
Not to sound superior or anything, but if you've never had small children, you're missing out. The way their minds work is unequaled. They have this weird oxymoronic ability to have no common sense and perfect common sense all at the same time. For example, they'll run into a street full of moving cars without even THINKING to look first, but they'll come up with new words or phrases that make more sense than the "grown-up" ones. Perrin, Heath, and I were at Home Depot last night looking at carpet. Perrin overheard the voice on the loudspeaker and asked us what that noise was. We told him it was somebody talking. He then asked, "Whobody?". "Whobody". I've never heard that word before, but it makes perfect sense to me. Why ISN'T that a word?
Perrin has also made his own deductions about my underthings. He picked up one of my bras out of a pile of laundry the other day and, at first, I didn't get what he was trying to call it so I just said "uh huh" and sort of ignored it. A couple days later he said it again (I do a lot of laundry so don't think I let my kids play with bras all the time) and I actually got what he was saying. He calls them "booby-traps". How fitting. My Aunt Carol always called going without a bra "letting those puppies roam free". Perrin came to the conclusion all on his own, though. At least, to my knowledge he did. It's hilarious to take him to department stores now. Whenever we pass the lingerie department, he shrieks "booby-traps" at the top of his lungs. I could be embarrassed by this, I suppose, but it's too funny. He is so often my comedy relief.
I think I'm going to go do some research on the birds flying into windows thing. Maybe there's a real reason for it after all.
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