pecking with biRds
There she goes again. I told her not to eat those grains but she thinks she’s one of them.
‘It’s all about believing, Maria. So, if I eat like a bird and think like a bird. Then will I be able to fly? But what does a bird think? It must think something. I can eat like a bird. Eat like a bird because I can see what they like to eat. Or I can look it up. But as far as I know no bird has ever written a book. A book on bird thoughts. Maybe a wise owl but he (or should that be she?) quite possibly didn’t write it herself at all. Quite possibly She (I’ve decided She must be a she) dictated it to a scribe. It’s hard to write with claws. And then maybe an owl will eat different things to a a sparrow or a thrust. I can’t imagine ever eating a worm. But then again, and now you’ve got me thinking, Maria. Maybe. that’s. what’s stopping me, from flying. What if it’s the combination of what we eat and what we think. That’s what makes us what we are. You are what you think. So, how do I find out what exactly a bird thinks? My dog thinks. He thinks, ‘I’d like that comfy warmed up seat,’ and then he strolls to the door. He strolls over. Stands there and turns his head. I get up to open – and before I know it he’s sitting there, right there where I was sitting. On my warm. and. comfy. seat. So, what would a bird think?’ Suddenly I felt lighter and lighter and then I knew. The time had come. I took a deep breath and felt the weight of my dress fall onto the back of my knees.