Our open bay window often has puffs of feathers stuck to it. Birds must have felt welcome in our home, because they were always trying to get in. Unsuccessfully so of course due to the down feathers always momentarily glued to the glass.
THUMP! Chauncy and I rush to the window. "I don't see a water balloon.." -ya. Hmm? We carefully make our way outside. A rather large bird was laying on the path to our front step right below our common room. I squat down to get a good look at it. It was just brown with a long beak. I left it there in fear of it coming back to life or that the fowl might be disease redden.
Home from the bakery in all white and glowing with love, and a smile. The smell of sweet apple fritters and fresh baked bread lingering.
"MOM! Another bird hit the window, a BIG one!" -Let's go look at it. As mom carefully handled the very dead bird she spread it's wings open and the orange feathers stripped like the American flag. Gorgeous! I know now what I had not known then, this was a northern flicker.The synopsis, my kind hearted mother had a practicing taxidermist stuff our cherished plum. To this day a Flicker proudly spreads it's colorful wings in my parent's kitchen.
Pieces of me .x.