I killed a bird yesterday on my way to work. In the air. The damn thing dive-bombed my car. My reflexes worked - sort of - I ducked. Sadly, the top of my car didn't duck with me. The bird hit the top of my windshield. I heard the thunk and looked in my rear view mirror in time to see it drop from the sky and thrash around on the street. I lost sight when the car behind me drove over it.
I suppose it's possible that it was just a glancing blow, and that the bird was stunned for a second and flew away once it was out of my sight. It's more likely that it died. Either right there in the middle of the road (dear God, please don't make me drive over my own victim) or it managed to get out of the road and die some place more peaceful.
Right after I hit the bird, I called Scott. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. No, it's not funny. The bird would have been alive if not for my car occupying that space in the Universe at that time. But seeing it drop out of the sky in the mirror - it was straight out of a bad comedy. But make no mistake, I was upset. Imagine my surprise when my darling husband's first response was, "aww... the poor little bird."
Oh well, I might take the other way to work for a few days, just until my conscience is a little clearer.
1 comment:
The other day, Michael yelled, LOOK! And there was a black cloud right in front of the truck, and before we could react, SMASH! CRACK! A million honey bees hit the windshield and left nothing but honey! There were over 150 splats, we counted them! And they're wondering why honey bees are vanishing! Oh, and when we got out ... there were a million more on the grill!
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