Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Blue jay killed

We had an accident in my backyard. A bluebird was killed. There was a cat lurking under the trees that ran off upon seeing me. A guilty cat.

The blue jay was majestic. Its feathers, what fashion designers fail to attempt, untouchable breathtaking beauty. A mixture of grace, grandeur and humbleness. A quality of frailty and strength.

Its blue striped feathers dotted the lawn like the scene of a tragic opera. Looking at it lying there, I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do. The story finished before I could interact or intercede.

Touched, I went to retrieve a little box with tissue paper. I dug a hole. It helpted to do something. Gently placing the bird in the silver and white paper, then in the box, which seemed inappropriate for something that seemed so pure and blue, like a piece of the sky broken off, I placed him in the ground and covered him with dirt. I found blue flowers which I placed at the site.

Life seems quite ambivalent to it's little creatures.


  1. Oh , what a sad story !

    I'm glad you buried him and gave him blue flowers too. I love the idea of him being a piece of the sky, that paints a beautiful picture.

  2. Thank you. Although it was an everyday event of life and death, it felt very shocking and sad to find him, so I felt I really needed to share that moment.

    I suppose sharing grief is a way of relieving it.


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