ThudThud! So close together it sounded like one.
Both bodies lay on the cement walk, just outside the glass window of the laundromat. A man came out and stepped over to them. I turned from my van, after putting items inside, and saw him looking down at the bodies. Not the kind of laundromat experience I look forward to.
Two small, black/white birds. Obviously both flew into the window, breaking their necks, and falling side by side. Their eyes still had a shine, but for only a few seconds, then the dullness came. I picked them up, one at a time, and again felt that emotional touch.
The heat of their bodies was very warm to my skin. One was slightly smaller than the other. But both were dead. I didn't know what to say. The other man touched the glass and looked at the birds, then at me. We could only nod to each other. I placed the two small bodies in the back of my van, on a paper napkin. All the chores planned for today were stopped, along with my heart, and their lives.
When I got home I took a small trowel and carried the bodies down into the arroyo in front of my home, and found a spot under a California Oak. I dug down deep, wrapped the two in the napkin, and covered them, placing two stones over the site to deter any digging.
Researching online, I found out these two were Black Phoebes. Certainly mates, one being slightly smaller, the female. They are monogamous, but nothing definite about being lifelong mates. Doesn't matter, really. The fact that they were together, flying as birds do, and both crashing into the glass and dying together.
I wonder if there is a nest. One with eggs, or worse, hatchlings. Given their nesting habits, one would never find the nest. I hope there were only eggs, if anything. Too many babies already starving to death on this Garden of Eden we arrogant humans called Earth.
So I trust you will enjoy yourselves today. But right now, stop what you are doing and go outside and look around, and I mean really look around. See! Now what if what you see is the last thing you will ever ever see, what would you do? What would you say? Who would you turn to?
There is a powerful part of me that is so goddamn angry. I have seen birds hit glass before, and the suddenness, and violence, of their deaths has always been heart wrenching. But then, after all, they are only birds. Just like that chicken you are thinking about having for dinner. I need to stop and let this go. I will sit here today with my four leggeds, burn candles and cedar, and try to ease this grief which gets triggered every time I witness such deaths and then try not to think of the violence and death that we do to each other for such meaningless and petty reasons.