I hear a bang. A familiar sound. The thud of a small body against glass. I run to look, heart beating wildly, and recoil in sadness at the sight, feathers littered about, quivering wings, then stillness, silence. The headline on the ornithology lovers email seems personal when it asks: Why exactly do birds crash into windows? And then answers: “Because they don’t even realize the windows are there.” Tip Number One is to avoid putting bird feeders three to thirty feet from your home: the “danger zone.” Tips Two, Three, Four, Five through Fourteen are all variations on how to mark the glass: decals, paint, curtains, screens, shutters. Anything to show the bird what is invisible is really a window, a wall, a grave. I turn and turn and turn. Flying too close to something, lured by hunger, friendliness, the need for approval, rage. But no one sees me crashing into glass. No one hears me struggle to get up over and over again. This small body does not make the slightest sound when it hits the ground.
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A have-to-read-twice poem. Realizing the thread between Uvaldi and Perry at the end, I ponder the correlation between all innocent, unprotected beings. Thank you Suzanna.
Your words will, and should, make our hearts ache today, Suzanna. Thank you. Let’s all look for the ways we can protect these small creatures who fall silently to the ground 😢