Beating Wings

A rural yard sighed under the sharp heat of a mid-morning eastern sun. Berries held on to any moisture that still resided under their skin, waiting to be plucked. Rocks basked under the fiery glow, happy to shake off another cold, damp starry night. Daylilies welcomed the sunshine with an abrupt shot of yellow; violently greeting the skies with pure, primary colour. And a finch struggled, frantically entangled in a dried shrub that had escaped through the cracks of a weathered pallet that was abandoned along the side of the yard.  

Her little legs were trapped by a frayed piece of tarp that had let go after being beaten and abused by the elements for so long. This gnarled piece of blue string only traveled as far as this beautiful bird’s delicate legs before it decided to rest. This bird was probably being adventurous, looking under the nooks and crannies in that area. It’s dark and cool underneath that tarp; probably laden with an overabundance of bugs….a bird utopia. She perhaps didn’t even notice the ugliness that was wrapping around her body, she was so enthralled with the hunt, so self absorbed and oblivious to the dangers. Then she had her fill and it was time to share her findings with others, tell the world of her riches without actually sharing the specifics. She started on her way but was violently snapped back. She tried again, pushing her wings a bit harder now, to no avail. The blue string was weaved through the dried branches like an inexperienced child’s attempt at playing cat in the cradle. Panic set in. She could see underneath her that life was continuing to move. There goes a bug that I missed, she thought. Oh, how I would love to have that little bug in my mouth right now, juicy and delectable and all mine. Above her she could see that the skies moved freely, clouds flicking in the light breeze without a thought to her plight. Nobody cared about her quandary.  Her wings were moving as quickly as her heartbeat now, fervently.  Exhausted, she sat, resigning her will to the snare that embraced her. The sun was sitting heavy on her now and it wouldn’t be long before predators would come by, the scent of fear permeating the air. The first thing they would do would peck her eyes out, so she was blinded to the pain that await her. 

And as quickly as these dreadful thoughts inundated her mind she was flying. Her wings bruised from beating the dry, brittle branches, her heart palpitating with fear and confusion, she moved in swift undulations with the slight breeze of freedom. She perched in a nearby tree, the blue stringed reminder still dangling delicately from her leg, to safely observe and clarify in her mind the situation that she had somehow magically and narrowly escaped. But all she could see was a large, silhouetted figure quickly dragging a tarp into a garbage pile, a pallet being lifted, a weed being pulled, and life resuming without a second thought to the her predicament….