A Knock on the Window
A bird hit my window yesterday, it appears to be a juvenile goldfinch. It was fatal. It makes me sad when the birds die at my window while flying toward what they believe to be blue skies and trees. Sometimes they get a chance to reflect on their mistake, but usually it’s the larger birds who get that opportunity. For the small ones, a direct blow almost always spells the end.
Oddly enough, I feel the same way about those poor bugs that plaster my car’s windshield. They have no idea what’s coming or why. One minute their wafting along on the wind looking for a mate, and the next minute their insides are drying on the glass of a car going 80 miles an hour. Death, the destroyer of worlds, has come speeding in the light.
All those little, seemingly inconsequential deaths bring to mind the butterfly effect, the idea that small actions can lead to large impacts, change the weather in north America or lead to the collapse of a population. Was the death of that bird or bug one death too many? I know, it’s a big question for such a seemingly small act, but it helps me remember that I’m a living thing in a world of living things, we’re all in it together, and actions have consequences.