Each and every winter I face one of my biggest fears on almost a daily basis. I deal with it almost consistently for about two months each winter season and then again in the spring time. It is the coming/leaving of the birds.
I have this incredible fear of being shitted on by a bird. And an even larger fear of being shitted on by a large group of birds. It makes walking out of a building to the car, or to the store, or to the trash receptacle, or to where ever outside quite unbearable. I always have to look to the sky and think if this is the moment that shit will fall onto my shoulder, or into my newly perfect-vision-seeing eyes, or worse -- into my mouth. I have to be vigilant about making sure the large V's that fly by are not taking aim at my orange skull cap or my neatly cut head. That the birds are not going to try and practice the targeting that they have honed all spring while flying individually in the neighborhood parks over the baseball players and couples making out on benches.
This year, I have been noticeably calm. I have not felt any serious anxiety. The reason -- there have been no migrating birds. It is December and I have not seen any birds going South to the beautiful lands of Central and South America. I haven't had to dart my eyes to try and peep out the bird who has sneaked away from its crew to do the solo mission one of its friends in the V formation has dared him/her to accomplish with the reward of some fresh worms upon arrival to their vacation home.
This morning kid sis #2 called me at 7:03 to tell me that she had seen a large group of black birds migrating Southward. Finally.
But what took them so long?
I hate to bring it to this, but maybe it's a colour thing. Maybe they are starting to be on CBT (Coloured Bird Time). Seriously. I'm not kidding. It is December and there are still birds in the mid-west. Maybe they are adopting the culture of a lot of the brown humans they see who are taking over their landscapes in all the lands of the world. And maybe the other lighter birds are adopting the darker birds' cultural ways and deciding to be late for stuff, too. Think of it as similar to the way hip hop has crossed the color barrier with humans.
What other excuse is there for their tardiness to head to some of the most beautiful places in the world? Maybe they were still trying to feed on some of the fried chicken bones laying outside of Popeyes. I don't know.
Let me know if you catch some birds practicing CBT.
And if you see me ducking and looking nervous, it is not because I am running from the po-po or a local gang that I upset by wearing the wrong colors, it is the birds.
Those damn birds.