I was sitting at an extraordinarily long stoplight yesterday evening when two unusual-looking birds that appeared to be male and female of the same species caught my eye. Starlings, I learned from my research. They pecked and poked at the ground, and one simultaneously pooped, which actually kind of startled me—as if swallowing the scrap that was in its beak had immediately produced this result.
I got drawn into their business, and, for a moment, drifted into a daydream. Except for the whole dropping right where I'm eating part, suddenly being a bird seemed like a pretty good gig.
The ability to quickly flee a situation? That'd be a nice power to have. Traipsing around in the grass all day long? Beats putting on clothes, driving in traffic, and genuflecting to the man for the majority of the daylight hours.
So, I've decided that I'm going to be a bird in my next life. I'll just have to watch out for hawks, fast cats, and plate glass windows.
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