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out on a ledge to save a bird

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Vancouver, 2001.10.16

As I was walking down the street today, I came across a bunch of sparrows squabbling in the small space below the over-hanging roof of a low-rise apartment building. One of the birds was acting oddly, hanging onto the wall upside down. I soon realized that it was caught, somehow, and that the rest were trying to do something about it. 'Something' in this case amounted to flapping about and trying to grab the stricken bird, as shown here:

As I was wondering if there was anything I could do, a fellow appeared at the door to the penthouse patio, and climbed over the wall. He walked along the roof, and said to me, "Hey, dude, is the bird stuck, there?".

Surprised, I said, "Yeah, it looks that way."

He then flopped down on his belly on the roof, and leaned out over the edge, as shown here:

(I think the bird is already free, in the photo above!)

The bird started panicking, of course, but he just reached down and took a-hold of it, and soon the thing was free. Grinning, the bird's savior got up, climbed the fence, and went back inside.

rand()m quote

Immature poets imitate mature poets steal bad poets deface what they take and good poets make it into something better or at least something different. The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique utterly different than that from which it is torn the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion. A good poet will usually borrow from authors remote in time or alien in language or diverse in interest.

—T.S. Eliot