August 04, 2009

Full Moon

Blackbirds - click
One day the old feeder was sick as a dog and down in the dumps. I was at a rude cabin in the woods along the Little Sioux River in Iowa, and the grove was thick with noisy blackbirds. Dad Bones stopped in and quickly analyzed my condition. He loaded our old 12 gauge shotgun and told me he knew what would make me feel better.

We went out on the porch and he said I should see how many blackbirds I could kill with one shot. I aimed into a thick part of the flock and fired. At least seven birds dropped immediately; the uninjured birds flew with a whoosh of wings. Several wounded birds stayed, only to drop to the ground one at a time.

I felt better.

Ever wake up in a strange alley with a fractured skull and amnesia? Its one of those days, and there are no blackbirds in sight.

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