Prelude to the Birds

I love a good story and I undoubtedly have the gift-of-gab.

Shockingly, I rarely spoke until Grade 3. Until Grade 3 I was a momma's-girl and couldn't go anywhere without her holding my hand. This led to her attending Junior Kindergarten twice.

Since Grade 3 I've shared story after story, many long-winded, some omitting details that would embarrass my closest friends. Others adapted, names changed, or rephrased to soften the blow – I like to joke around, but hate hurting anyone's feelings.

This one skill – the art of communication – has led me to tell my 'bird story' an embarrassing amount of times.

I was headed to the snowy marina to take photos of my [Saturday] best. As we pulled up, there was a flock of birds laying down, shivering, trying to stay warm. I have an irrational fear of birds, so naturally my heart rate elevated. Carefully shifting the car into park, none of the birds moved. "In the clear!" I thought.

Four of the thousands of birds on-site... and a seagull up above

I stepped out of the car and oh.so.very.carefully. closed my car door. Tip-toeing to the edge of the parking lot, I quietly told my handsome photographer to "just press the button!". Seconds later the birds began to stir as a car pulled into the parking lot and rolled down the window. Glancing around I saw seagulls circling above. I've seen these scavengers in action before – I like nothing about it.

Trying to loosen up and smile, I strike a pose. Smiles turn to shrills as a passenger in the visitor's car tosses bread out the window.

Birds are surrounding me and madness ensues. I am dancing on my tippy-toes, not so gracefully making an awkward dash to the car, as birds swarm me. Shrill screams are escaping my mouth and tears streaming down my face. The previously sleeping birds are now up and hissing their way to the bread. Yes - Canadian geese hiss.

AND THE CAR DRIVES OFF!

Of course they didn't stay to see the birds eat. If they had, a series of curse words would have been lashed directly at them.

Instead, I repeatedly grasp on the car door handle as my now doubled-over photographer laughed, 'trying' to unlock the car doors.

Who locks the car doors when a) we are the only ones in the parking lot and b) we are less than ten steps from the car?

All of this to get a few good photos in the snow.