Life Among the Never-Winged

Once upon a time I was writing a book called, "Just Another Love Letter", about angels behaving badly. Now I just quietly ask myself each day, "What the hell am I doing?"

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Location: The Rocky Mountain Empire, United States

My friends always knew I was going to hell. My only hope is that God likes good jokes and bad redheads.

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  • Friday, May 25, 2007

    Just Another Bird Story

    Keep 'em coming, by the way. Good stuff. Not quite over the edge yet though. But not far from it.

    Busy week. We took a trip to the zoo on Wednesday (any time it takes more than forty five minutes to get to a destination, I consider it a trip). I approached the outing with a mix of excitement and dread – two boyos under the age of five, bubonic plague-infested squirrels, and me.

    I'm trying to get out more with my sons. They are bored at home, they're older now and sometimes actually listen to me, and in the fall, all of us are going back to school, which means this is our last summer vacation.

    So the zoo. It was fun. The weather was a perfect accomplice; cloud cover, cool breezes, and the threat of rain about the time I was ready to pack it up and go home. The decent weather made the animals more active too, so it was less like looking at big fur rugs and more like Wild Freaking Kingdom.

    Case in point. We walked up to the Grizzly bear environment; your typical structure of man-made rocks, a couple of bare trees, and a dry moat between the bears and us monkeys watching them.

    The biggest bear raised his head and sniffed. He ambled over to the edge of the moat and watched the three of us, nose in the air. His buddy came over, nose wrinkling, eyes on the prize.

    Which, apparently, was us.

    We watched the two grizzlies try to negotiate the steep sides of the chasm in an attempt to cross. The smaller one roared. The other stood up on his hind legs, all the while staring at us, nose a-quiver.

    The boyos were thrilled.

    I smiled, said, “Oooohh, guys, look at the bears!” And inside my head a cave woman was jumping up and down and screaming OH JESUSFUCKINGGOD IF WE WERE IN THE WILD WE'D BE LUNCH!!!!

    After that we looked at the penguins. Nice, friendly funny little penguins.

    And speaking of birds. I have a bird story for you from the zoo.

    I love Canadian geese. When they fly overhead I always stop to watch them. “Somewhere geese are flying.” A line written by a man I despise, but nonetheless I use it as a mantra to reassure myself that there is ephemeral beauty surpassing anything we can comprehend.

    We sat down to lunch at the zoo, watched the brave sparrows dart around the tables for crumbs. A Canadian goose waddled through them and over to our table. He hunkered down right up against my leg, like a cat. I waited for him to start purring.

    Then a disease-ridden little tree rat scampered up, and I warned the boyos not to touch it. The goose got up, waddled under the table and bit the squirrel on the tip of its flea-infested tail, sending the little bugger running. The the goose fluffed his feathers and returned to his place against my leg.

    Good goose. But where was he when we were looking at the bears?

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    13 people left me a love letter:

    Blogger Stucco wrote in a love letter...

    Did Schmopie or I tell you about the other day when on the way home, I saw a bald eagle being harassed by a bunch of seagulls until it dropped some lumpy thing it was carrying- that was a seagull? That was a trip.

    6:48 PM, May 25, 2007  
    Blogger Schmoopie wrote in a love letter...

    Heh. You said trip. Heh. I have had a few glasses of wine and I am trying to read the blogs cross-eyed. Heh. Schmopie. Heh.

    Wish you were here!

    7:27 PM, May 25, 2007  
    Blogger meno wrote in a love letter...

    You need a personal guard goose to go with you everywhere.

    I am working on my bird post, including a picture. Wheeee.

    7:31 PM, May 25, 2007  
    Blogger Mother of Invention wrote in a love letter...

    I love to see the flocks of Canada Geese all in V-formation in the fall honking their little beaks off! He probably wanted some lunch from you.

    7:55 PM, May 25, 2007  
    Blogger Irrelephant wrote in a love letter...

    He's a goose, not a machine-gun for cripes sake! *lol* He was probably watching from somewhere quite safe and hidden, far from the hungry ursines!

    8:52 PM, May 25, 2007  
    Blogger Bud wrote in a love letter...

    So the goose goosed the squirrel! How sweet of it to nuzzle up to you like that. I've never seen a goose behave this way. Which is probably why the expression isn't "Somewhere a goose is nuzzling."

    5:26 AM, May 26, 2007  
    Blogger patches wrote in a love letter...

    I need a goose like that. How much to Fed Ex that bird to the southeast?

    6:25 AM, May 26, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    YOU told me that story, dear Stucco. :-)

    Jeez, Schmoop, sounds like you had more fun last night than I did. Though I did wake up smelling like woodsmoke and tasting like cigars. Ugh. I wish I was there too!

    I do, Meno. Where do I hire one? I want a goose publicist too.

    Oh, I love watching them too, MOI, flying across an autumn sky at sunset. He got some of my lunch, believe me. :-)

    lol, Ir! My hero was sitting in the bushes, eh?

    LOL...somewhere geese are nuzzling....turn it into a song, Bud. Oh, and go back and read about my Seattle trip, you Blog slacker. ;-)

    No way, Patches; he's mine!

    10:43 AM, May 26, 2007  
    Blogger amusing wrote in a love letter...

    I hate sparrows.

    The house wrens also tried to build a nest in my dad's shoe, he informs me.

    I want swallows in my yard. They are so pointy and shiny and pretty.

    The Youngest scored a fish skeleton left on the dock by one of the Ospreys. They are nesting nearby.

    9:43 PM, May 26, 2007  
    Blogger amusing wrote in a love letter...

    I was once a a penguin publicist. I have photos to prove it.

    9:45 PM, May 26, 2007  
    Anonymous d-man wrote in a love letter...

    I thought I saw a dead body in a lake today, but it turned out to be a black swan. Which was a shame, because I was looking forward to getting a stick and poking it.

    4:53 AM, May 27, 2007  
    Blogger Scott from Oregon wrote in a love letter...

    Last year, I helped a friend build a lion's cage all the while the lion paced back and forth, stalking us from behind what seemed to be a very chintzy fence.

    10:08 AM, May 27, 2007  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    I got tired of sparrows when we lived in the city, because they were the only birds I ever saw. Not even pigeons. Sparrows. You must, MUST show us your penguin publicist photos. I smile just thinking of it.

    Never poke a stick at a swan, D-Man. Big, beautiful, bitey bastards.

    I tracked a mountain lion once. I came to my senses when I could smell it. Ah, those strong, young, insane days.

    11:20 AM, May 27, 2007  

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