I was going for a run the other day when I came upon a dead bird on the sidewalk; a beautiful black, red, and white. There were no apparent injuries, certainly nothing to suggest an animal had caught it. It was just there, lying in the middle of the cracked cement, as though it had been going about its day one moment, and was simply gone the next. ⁣⁣⁣⁣
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It reminded me of a line I read in a book that said when they die, birds just fall from the sky.⁣⁣⁣⁣
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“Ridiculous,” I thought. “That can’t be true.”⁣⁣⁣⁣
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And, of course, it isn’t. ⁣And thank goodness too, because a world where a bird could just drop in front of you at any moment seems rather Alfred Hitchcock…⁣⁣⁣
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And yet, on the other hand, I’ve also decided it’s ridiculous that they DON’T do that. ⁣⁣⁣⁣
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After all, if I had wings, and I knew the end was near, how could I choose anything BUT the air? ⁣⁣⁣⁣
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One last soar; one final flight. A singular weightlessness before succumbing to the light 💕⁣

2 thoughts on “Falling birds

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