Dec. 17, 2008 (World News Trust) -- It’s early November.
I’m checking my mail when I decide to stand in front of my
apartment building for a little air: Astoria, Queens, New York City,
USA air.
I notice five sea
gulls flying overhead -- north to south -- well above the buildings,
asphalt, and internal combustion engines. No more than a few seconds
later, another eight gulls pass so I decide to count. Why not? In no
time, I’m over 50.
To my right, in the
beautifully symmetrical little tree that graces my block, the
sparrows are chirping up a storm. Proud parents zip in and out of the
branches -- still covered with green leaves -- to feed their young. The
result is a symphony of cheeps, peeps, and tweets.
I’m at 75 sea gulls now. Not sure if this is atypical or perhaps
just a daily occurrence I’ve somehow never detected. As I near the
century mark in about a ten-minute span, the sparrows are louder than
ever. Are there more sea gulls passing than sparrows in the
beautifully symmetrical little tree?
I’ll never know but I’m digging the fine, feathered experience no
matter what. It’s what passes for nature in these parts. Outside of
the rare raccoon sighting, we’ve got cats and dogs and squirrels
and we’ve got plenty of birds: pigeons, crows, starlings, sparrows,
and sea gulls.
125-126-127… but I can’t help but imagine what it might have
been like in pre-Industrial -- hell, pre-Colombian -- days. “I
have never seen a river full of fish,” Derrick Jensen writes in
Endgame. “I have never seen a sky darkened for days by a
single flock of birds. (I have, however, seen skies perpetually
darkened by smog.)”
The sparrows quiet a bit… almost as if they can read my
overburdened mind. A sky darkened for days by a single flock of
birds? Seems like another planet to me.
I reach 168 sea gulls before heading back inside. My neighbor’s
imprisoned parakeet squawks as I climb the stairs.
Mickey Z. can be found on the Web at http://www.mickeyz.net.