Stupid Nature.
I bought a couple of packs of halloween punchballs. They blew up like thick, high-quality, very round balloons, bright orange, each with a swell jack-o-lantern smile on it. I carefully edged out on the thin, one-and-a-half-foot wide, decorative veranda outside our home-office and put up a nice row of them on the railing. Smiling at the street, bobbling in the breeze, they made a simple but satisfying house decoration, sufficiently un-scary and festive enough to please my four-year-old Halloween-loving princess Miranda. I went inside happy.
Later in the day, I heard a dim "bang!" I went upstairs to the street level and as I mounted the steps heard louder and louder
Bang!
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
I ran outside expecting to yell at some bored Piedmont teenager targeting the balloons with a slingshot or a BB gun, ready to really rip into the thoughtless brat, since the balloons were so close to my windows. Instead, I saw a bluejay. I watched in slack-jawed disbelief as the dorky bird landed on the last grinning punch-ball, cocked its head sideways, and gave it a mighty peck dead center. The punch ball exploded BANG! under the bird's feet. It shrieked, and then flew into the tree.
Blasted fowl, wrecking the decorations I put up for my daughter!
I know bluejays are loud and mischievous. I know they terrorize other birds, steal fruit, and dig up new seedling plants. For the most part, I forgive them because, well, because they're bright blue. It's hard for me to hate anyone who's bright blue. But really. I'm feelin' the hate today. I curse the blue vandal. I don't know if birds dream, but I hope that one's nights are haunted by the shocking sensation and sound of explosions underfoot for weeks to come.
Later in the day, I heard a dim "bang!" I went upstairs to the street level and as I mounted the steps heard louder and louder
Bang!
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
I ran outside expecting to yell at some bored Piedmont teenager targeting the balloons with a slingshot or a BB gun, ready to really rip into the thoughtless brat, since the balloons were so close to my windows. Instead, I saw a bluejay. I watched in slack-jawed disbelief as the dorky bird landed on the last grinning punch-ball, cocked its head sideways, and gave it a mighty peck dead center. The punch ball exploded BANG! under the bird's feet. It shrieked, and then flew into the tree.
Blasted fowl, wrecking the decorations I put up for my daughter!
I know bluejays are loud and mischievous. I know they terrorize other birds, steal fruit, and dig up new seedling plants. For the most part, I forgive them because, well, because they're bright blue. It's hard for me to hate anyone who's bright blue. But really. I'm feelin' the hate today. I curse the blue vandal. I don't know if birds dream, but I hope that one's nights are haunted by the shocking sensation and sound of explosions underfoot for weeks to come.