under the butterfly bush

i have no idea what i'm doing here. raptors aside, i've never been birds' biggest fan. i despise pigeons so much that sometimes (especially when they're sullying my car) i secretly want to punt those rats with wings. this morning's different though. i'm sitting on the grass in suburbia, inwardly rooting for a bird's survival.

the birds have been all (please forgive me for this; i totally can't help it) atwitter the past few days, & even though they've always been vocal in this development, they've seemed moreso in the past week. in fact, the squirrels & the rabbits also look pretty... hopped up (HA.), & i'm not able to explain it. all i can say is that it's fodder for interesting thoughts. i've wanted to get closer, to take photographs of subjects i've never captured before, & now i'm moving beyond even that. why are these animals behaving the way they are? it's certainly a deviation from the norm that i've always witnessed. so what's changed?

this poor thing is straining to move. i fished it from our swimming pool, & its exhaustion is obvious. though it's starting to rain, i remain outside, about 2 meters from where i laid the blackbird as gently as i could, by the root of the butterfly bush. i want to make sure that it has a chance at recovery, so i'm sitting here like an ominous guardian whose presence should terrify any suburban predators. rar. get away from my bird. 

i don't want to get any closer because i'm afraid that too near a proximity will send the already taxed creature into cardiac arrest. as i watch, i can't escape the thought that our worlds have collided, much, much too hard. perhaps i'm wrong, but i get the feeling that in rural & urban areas, at least the boundaries are obvious--this is natural, & this is not. here, you'll find food, & there you won't. suburbia isn't so kind. we've been working really hard to blast the algae out of our pool, & here's cause for renewed urgency--the birds may not be able to differentiate between the green grass & the green water. they fly into the wet, become laden with liquid, & drown.

there's been constant construction since my return to PA. the ground rumbles with jackhammers breaking the bedrock beneath the soil. dig, dig, dig! foundations *must* be laid for a slew of mini McMansions! lawnmowers sheer plots of earth daily, without fail, at all hours. literally. i couldn't sleep last night, & i swear i heard someone manicuring his or her personal green acre to perfection. grand, tall trees are hewn down to size or cut-down altogether. it's rare for those removed to be replaced, & when they are, they're usually supplanted by dainty saplings that are more suited to the latest trend in landscape design. this is the mark of adult achievement, the must-have of our way of life, the manifestation of the american dream: sculpt the earth however we please, so that we might have our homes. 

a companion problem is the confusion this creates. there are plenty of green spaces  in the 'burbs, but they are *our* green spaces. animals may live here, but pity the feathered fool who can't tell algae-fied water from a lush lawn. may it drown for not being able to tell the difference.

watching another being walk the line between life & death raises so many troubling questions & disallows any simple solutions. of course, there are nasty (by human standards) ponds, & i'm sure that many animals meet their ends in similar circumstances. but humans put the pool here & didn't help the issue. i'm not so blindly vehement that i expect all humanity to eschew all aspects of modern living, & we're not a population entirely comprised of stepford-bots concerned only with outward appearance, flouting the environmental consequences of our own way of life. there are many concerned, proactive families, mine among them. we recycle pretty much everything possible, & we often leave lamps off & enjoy natural daylight. we also rescue the little things that fall into our pool. all the same, whether urban, suburban, or rural, we (& now i'm speaking of we-as-species) make enough excuses to cultivate our own comfort, often at the expense of others. it's how we are. it's what we do. & make no mistake; i am a full-fledged member of this human collective--environmental offenses & all.

do i have any answers? of course not. i'm not dumb enough to think that i'm smart enough to solve the blurring of creature boundaries. & can i sit out here all day? no again. i have other tasks that must be tended to, & i'll have to trust nature to take its course. i cannot ensure this small one's safety; even if its feathers fully dry & it flies from the butterfly bush, it may end up in the maw of a stray tom. what i can do is be more intentional on this earth, taking greater care to appropriately coexist, not selfishly conquer.

i have to go inside now. nature calls.

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postscript: it took me long enough to write this post, & as i moved from paragraph to paragraph, the bird proceeded to open its eyes more often & wiggle more fervently. by the time i'd finished the (very) rough draft, it was on its feet, hopping into the foliage. i couldn't be more pleased to see it leave.

*i still don't like pigeons.