the burning seagull
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
A bit of excitement around the neighbourhood this morning. An unholy racket was going up outside the apartment, so I had a look and discovered some dozen crows gathered around on the powerlines outside. A seagull landed on one of the junction-points (whatever they're called) on the hydro pole across the alley from my apartment. Needless to say, it was immediately killed.
But its body toppled into the works, and soon caught fire. The smell of burning seagull is one I won't bother describing. Since the pole itself is wooden, I decided that it might be time to call the BC hydro people, and was just doing so when I heard an approaching fire engine, and realised that someone had beat me to it. Before the engine could even turn up, one of the power lines had burned through the bird's wing, and the wing fell off. Without this support, the rest of the body fell to the alleyway below. Then the firemen poured out, and met the fellow who I assume had called. He was holding the bits of burned gull in some plastic bags. The firemen decided everything was in order (the pole itself was no long smoldering) and left.
Here's a pic (you knew this was coming, right?).
