157 - Block Party
I am fascinated by mega congregations of birds at intersections. What are they all doing? A weekly gossip session? Perhaps they’re all perched up there cackling at the hoo-mans “stuck in their bi-pedal skeletons with no feathers - think, Betty, NO FEATHERS, can you imagine it, Betty?”
Then Betty the Blackbird would say, “I know, Marge, poor squawking mammals! How dare they go out in public?”
Or perhaps it’s an arena where certain birds are elected to dive bomb for scraps falling from the drive-thru of the local Arby’s to see who gets to the fry first. The loudest bird would be nominated the announcer: “This week, Jerry and Theodore will battle in the 7th and Maple Street arena for the first scrap to fall from the Starbucks window.”
Third option: A neighborhood Nest-Owners Association meeting? “Ok folks, we really need to keep the twig expenditure under budget this year. I know some of you went slap happy with the renovations to your nests, but let’s try to keep it to one room per bird per nest, ok?”
Whatever they are doing up there, whenever I see birds on wire it reminds me of all the times I get together with friends and loved ones. While we can’t fly up and perch on electrical wires for our gatherings, we’ve got something better: patio grills.