Monday, July 16, 2012

Window, closed

It is a strange situation we have here - the cold concrete blocks that rise up, stretching toward the skies like flags; humanity staking claim to the world around us, building higher and higher, tearing the boundaries set by birds and the clouds.

Yet I am reminded of the wonders of nature every morning as I walk to work. There are leaves on the ground, fallen from the tree tops like discarded scabs from their wounded pride. They who grow upwards to the sun, fighting for survival by reaching the light - beaten by the shadows cast by our towering buildings.

There are the ants and the snails and the worms that fall from the tree, hanging themselves and casting themselves off to fate; mysterious nature at work, seemingly senseless but yet miraculously efficient. They swarm, they crawl, they squirm to survive.

Yet we pass them by.

And with their territories invaded by our lifeless constructs full of windows and smoke and noisy offspring, the birds have taken to drastic measures to integrate with our inconsiderateness.

One pair of tiny avians have roosted outside my window, in a small corner, with a small nest, for three small eggs.

And they have hatched.

For days I watched and observed the chicks. Sometimes the mother bird would be there, sitting on them and flying off when someone approaches. Other times the little birds would stretch their necks to the skies, awaiting their providers' return. But at night it would always be the same - mother bird would be in the nest, snuggled tightly against her babies, sheltering them from the cold.

But one day, she wasn't there. And another day. And another day.

Today the chicks lie motionless, victims of the harsh reality we have so taken for granted. In our own struggle for supremacy, we forget that in each breath we take as the alpha life form, there ends the many other beings we share this world with.

This is for all the mother birds who failed to make it home; for all the worms who failed to grow wings; for all the snails who didn't cross the concrete pathway fast enough.

I see you, outside my window.

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