Wednesday, February 15, 2006


funeral for a friend


I was walking onto the patio to make a phone call when I saw the bird on the step. She made me think of a sad story that I read as a child and retold (badly) this weekend, as we walked through a riverbed. I always remember that story when I see a dead bird - as though each one is the brave and selfless protagonist I imagine her to be.

I took her to the backyard and buried her under a cactus, folded up in a napkin shroud. The guys were in the kitchen when I came back in, brushing the dirt from my dress pants and visibly saddened.

I bet that makes me pretty weird.

2 comments:

vv said...

Not weird; tenderhearted. A good thing in my book.

Aaron Weber said...

Bird flu vector! Bird flu vector! Eeeek. Wash your hands!