Of a feather

Do you know what I saw today? A hummingbird. It was the first time I’ve ever seen one so close to home. We have a neighborhood listserv, God help us; and although some people post stupid complaints about illegally parked vehicles or unsanctioned sheds or fences, others post nice things about events that are happening (back when events actually happened) and things to give away, and neighborhood wildlife, including hummingbirds. Apparently, hummingbirds began to appear in people’s backyards during this corona spring, and I finally got to see one myself. 

The hummingbird wasn’t in my backyard; it was in the side yard between my house and non-crazy neighbor’s house. As I mentioned, they have one particularly large bird feeder that attracts all manner of avian visitors, most of which I cannot identify. Of course, as I have also mentioned before, I can’t identify most birds, but I’m pretty sure that the ones I’ve been seeing in recent months are out of the ordinary for our corner of Maryland. I keep trying to get a picture here and there, but birds are notoriously camera shy. 

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So that was yesterday. Other than orioles, who are very common bird visitors, I haven’t seen any birds today. I’m always happy to see the orioles, though, so that’s good enough from a wildlife perspective. The orioles are not so much visitors as neighbors. They probably read the listserv. 

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I need to be nicer. I am still shopping for my eccentric old lady and I grow more impatient with her as the weeks go by. I’m sure, of course, that I don’t betray that impatience with her on the phone; at least, I try not to. But it might be audible. 

I’m not annoyed with the old lady so much as I’m annoyed at everything in general. 

Well, a few things are particular to the old lady. For example, I always call her on the same day at the same time. Could she possibly have her list ready, rather than making me wait for her to get it ready and then call me back? Could she not make me stop at the deli counter for fried chicken every week? And could she not use a hillbilly southern accent on the words “fried chicken”? Could she not remind me EVERY DAMN TIME that she wants NATURAL peanut butter? And could she stop asking me to buy ALL of the natural peanut butter they have? I’m not going to be a party to peanut butter hoarding. Times are hard, and other people need their peanut butter, too. 

And speaking of hoarding, what is with the bleach? Why am I buying huge jugs of bleach every damn week? Is she drinking it? Is she injecting it to ward off the ‘rona? Is she running a Magdalene laundry? WHY DOES SHE NEED SO MUCH FUCKING BLEACH?

But no, it’s not her. It’s me. It’s my desperately poor attitude toward what I have come to think of as house arrest, undeserved, unwarranted house arrest. 

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Don’t read this as a complaint about reasonable public health measures. I’ll wear a mask all day long, and I yield to no one in my commitment to social distancing. I hardly ever leave the house except to swim or buy fried chicken and bleach. But the powers that be need to get it together, agree on a plan, and make sure that the plan comes together so that we can get off this terrible treadmill. My always-tenuous grip on reason is becoming less secure by the day. Shit’s getting real. 

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The birds, however, are as happy as they always are; no more and no less. I suppose that’s why I like having my desk where it is. I can watch them as I work, marveling at their freedom. Of course, I wouldn’t want to live like a bird. Their freedom is predicated on ignorance. They are conscious only of their immediate surroundings and needs and although animals experience fear, they don’t suffer anxiety about the future; not in the way that we do, anyway. Some time in the not-too-distant future, I hope, normal life will resume and we’ll get to go out into the the world, which will be an interesting place again. And these birds that I’m watching now (at least five different kinds, no kidding) will die, and others just like them will take their places. Humans will die in that time, too, sadly, but no one will take their places because no one can. No two are alike. Even birds can’t claim that.