Boulevard of Broken Wings

Circumstance had me stationed in the Coles carpark patiently awaiting the idle traffic to disperse before joining the bargain hunters of quaint suburbia, unaware of the tragedy about to unfold.

A four-wheel drive rolled back and forth, stalking row upon row of cars, searching for a parking bay in close proximity to the supermarket. At that precise moment a flock of pigeons could be seen industriously feasting on scraps left behind by deli patrons to nourish their hearty appetite. The vehicle disturbed our flock, enough to send most scurrying every which way. The scrambled flight-plan of one placed him directly in the path of that metallic beast. The tiny creature’s bones exploded upon impact. The driver, oblivious to the sanctity of life, continued his stalking.

As the feathers settled, I could see the little fellow had not succumbed - a minor miracle given the savagery of this encounter. The young warrior held on, perhaps unaware of the extent of his injuries. Much like a battered prizefighter it seemed he wanted to go on. But in raising that tiny cranium to survey the damage, this spirited creature came face to face with the reality of a crumpled mass void of hope. A gaping wound pierced his side, yet there was no evidence of blood - an indignity he was not about to suffer publicly.

I crouched over his mangled frame, a loss as to what I should do. I could have gambled and taken him to the Vet which after all was only a few hundred yards away. But we both understood that would have been futile.

I prayed death would come quickly, mercifully.

For an instant I felt anger that he had not immediately accepted a fate that will eventually befall all of us. Ironically life is easier that way. No, within this pigeon there was truly the heart of a hawk.

Birds of a feather

It was then my little friend summoned the strength to tilt his head in an effort to meet my sympathetic gaze. Unbeknownst to me we were in conversation without a word having been spoken. A moment in what was to become the rest of his life. For that honour I will always remain humbled.

In life we forge a reputation by accepting challenges that take us to the brink of our own humanity. This gives reason to our very existence. Don’t accept circumstance simply because you interpret them in a negative light. Instead, challenge the Universe with all your might. Never compromise with your dreams and never reach for them thinking there will be clouds to cushion your fall. Instead be like the tightrope walker above Niagara Falls. Experience the fear; the heart-pounding adrenalin pulsating through your veins and always, always have a smile for those who would caution against such bravado.

Sensing the fight had been lost my mortally wounded friend turned away gently and began to regurgitate life from those lungs. At first the bodily fluids trickled, but then that trickle flowed torrentially. I held him up - it was all I could do. There was time enough to say our goodbyes and then his Spirit left him.

I looked left and I looked right. Inexplicably at 1.30 on a Saturday afternoon the Coles carpark was deathly silent. A tribute no doubt to a life well lived!