Bird-man

There once lived a man. He was called the Bird-man by all who knew him. He lived far away from civilization in a house all by himself. Those who knew of his past never spoke of it, wether by choice or of forbiddence, I'll never know. It was rumored that the only times he would leave the house was to feed the birds.

One day, I trekked out to see him. Climbing over piles of junk, ones of earth and ones of humanity, I searched for this man on foot because my car could no longer take the rough terrain. Finally, I found him. He was sitting staring at a bird feeder that was a good twenty or thirty yards from him. The rocking chair creaked as he slowly leaned back and forth. His gaze was intent, so much so that I shivered, although he had yet to notice me.

My eyes become unfocused on him as I noticed the birds on his bird feeder. Most of them were shades of brown, black, and white, but there was one. One prettier than all the rest. It's resplendent red coat shined so elegantly in the sun. It took my breath away. A startling sound re-focused my attention on the Birdman.

The rocking chair had stilled, and he was sitting at the edge of his seat, gaze more intent than humanley possible. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach, but it was not to late! I could do something! In what seemed like mere picoseconds, the words "No!" traveled up my throat and out my mouth, whisteling at the speed of sound to the resplendent red bird.

My voice went to war, combating the winged enemy hurtling itself towards my resplendent red bird.

It mattered not how hard I had fought, the inveitable transpired right before my own eyes. The winged one lodged itself deep into the red birds breast. It toppled from the feeder and hit the snow with the softest of plops, but to me it might as well have been a hypersonic boom. My feet were moving before I could even think and I stormed past the feeder and up to the Birdman. I had not been invited to his house so I could not just walk up the steps because, in all legal terms, I was already trespassing.

"How could you?!" I screamed. "That bird did nothing to you and yet you killed it! Explain yourself!" I demanded.

Having leaned back in his chair the old man set down his rifle, and gazed upon me with now weary, tired, but steely blue eyes. Knitting his brows together, he looked off to my side back to the feeder where the other birds had returned, seemingly not put off by their missing companion when food was so readily available.

The minutes seemed to tick on as I waited with heated breath and scowl for his reply. Finally he replied with "I saved it." Incredulously, I stared up at him, my brown to his blue but he was still staring at the feeder. "Pretty things don't belong in this world," he continued. "Sooner or later, it would have suffered. This world is black and white and no amount of color will change that. But because of me, it will be free of this earth." As he spoke, his blue eyes settled to mine, and I internally froze from the ice I saw in his heart.

Whirling around I stomped over to the bird, respectfully softening my approach as I drew near. I kneeled and covered the bird with the soft powderings of snow until a mound grew. A red brittle leaf caught my attention and gathering it, I stuck it upright in the snow. Although the leaf was no match for its resplendent coat, it was the best I could do. Patting the mound, I whispered...

"The Birdman and I are not too different from each other, but whereas he has hope in this world, I do not. When I looked at you, my red bird, in the midst of all the other brown birds, I realized that because you were different, you gave me hope for a change. And for that reason, I treasure you all the more. He thinks he is freeing you to save you, but he doesn't know that you are here to give us hope for a better day, and an even better tomorrow."

The next day I saw another red bird. "My what a beautiful sign of hope" I said aloud. Turning to my left, I looked. "Yes, that it is," said the birdman.