(no subject)
I watched a baby bird die on campus. The hail that morning must have knocked it out of the nest. It was lying in the middle of the pavement on its back, gasping for breath, kicking silently. I couldn’t keep on walking. Neither could the girl behind me. We both stopped and stood there, choking back unwarranted tears.
I didn’t know what to do. If it had been a human, I would have known what to do. Call 911, stop the bleeding, breaths, compressions, try to find a name, maybe a family member to contact. I can try to save a human life - I have before. But this bird was so tiny, fragile, wet and dirty, and no family member was going to come, and I couldn’t save it. All I could do was scoot it onto a piece of paper and off of the sidewalk. And then stand there and helplessly watch it die.
Those tears that I refused to cry made me feel a little bit better. Is it wrong that I experienced a cathartic brush with the unknown forces of life and death at the expense of this tiny bird? Is it morbid that I had to watch?
I didn’t know what to do. If it had been a human, I would have known what to do. Call 911, stop the bleeding, breaths, compressions, try to find a name, maybe a family member to contact. I can try to save a human life - I have before. But this bird was so tiny, fragile, wet and dirty, and no family member was going to come, and I couldn’t save it. All I could do was scoot it onto a piece of paper and off of the sidewalk. And then stand there and helplessly watch it die.
Those tears that I refused to cry made me feel a little bit better. Is it wrong that I experienced a cathartic brush with the unknown forces of life and death at the expense of this tiny bird? Is it morbid that I had to watch?