For the past two weeks, a bird has been trying to fly through the window. What's really weird, besides the fact that it keeps doing it over and over again, is it always happens at 8:40 in the morning.
I assume it's the same bird, it's not like it has a name tag or anything, so I could be wrong, but after flying into the glass six or seven times, the feathered friend always looks in at me like I'm supposed to do something. All I can manage to do is keep the dogs from going as crazy as the bird is pounding itself silly.
Freaks of nature don't necessary have to have a meaning, although maybe they do, we're just too tuned into our fast-paced lives to take notice. I'm not sure what kind of message the bird is trying to send, but it seems determined that it can fly through a double-paned window.
It's a reach, a real far reach, but I've wondered if this bird has the same sense of ESP I'm certain my dogs have. For the past couple weeks I've begun the day with a walk around the 10 acres. If I just think about putting on my shoes, they start pacing, panting and nudging me as though to say, "don't just sit there and think about it, let's go."
If I walk around the acreage two times, it's a mile. That's more exercise than I've had at one time since my 20s. I've almost made it around four times, but three seems to be the limit before my calves feel like they're burning through my jeans.
The cows on the pasture to the right stare me down like I'm interrupting their quiet time, while the horses on the left look confused since they're used to only seeing me on the tractor. They follow me up the fence line, watching and waiting for my next move.
The birds are in full chorus in the morning and probably are all day long, but I don't seem to notice with telephones ringing and the TV or radio blaring.
Perhaps the bird at the window is encouraging me to come out again or trying to show me that even birds get confused about what's really possible and what could stop you in your tracks. I have visions of walking myself into the skinny jeans, which have been in my closet for the past 15 years, and currently will only fit up to my thighs. It's a big goal but not any more than a bird thinking it can fly through a window that's shut.
Maybe the bird saw me eating a chocolate doughnut after my walk and is showing me that making the same mistake over and over again won't give me new results.
Page 2 of 2 - I suppose birds of a feather really do flock together.
Sandy Turner lives in the Kansas City area and writes this column for GateHouse Media.