Mourning a Blackbird

MEMOIR/TRUE STORY

After all these years, its wings still flutter in my head, and my heart

It was a chilly morning for September when I ventured out for a run around the Mather High School track, which was near our Rogers Park apartment in Chicago. So brisk, that I donned a pair of gloves before heading outdoors.

The sun was shining, with that “burnished” patina it takes on in early Autumn and the tree leaves were just starting to turn. All in all, I was feeling pretty good and looking forward to getting some exercise in the fresh air.

As I neared the park, I noticed that there wasn’t another soul on the track. Something about that felt odd, but I had no problem running sans company.

I started at a moderate lope and then, as I picked up steam, I noticed something on the grass up ahead. Something black. And flapping. Wings.

My heart sank into my Nike’s as I realized it was one of those huge blackbirds that appear now and then. Do you know what I mean? The really big ones, much like the size of a small hawk.

Slowly, I approached and saw that the poor thing was scrabbling on the ground, unable to take flight, or even walk. And, as I’ve always had an affinity for animals, I felt sick as I looked around for help, of any kind.

Nothing. And then, someone came running out of the clubhouse. A young, Hispanic woman. She didn’t speak much English, but somehow, I was able to convey that I needed a large box to put the bird in.

Thankfully, she was able to find what I needed, and gently, I lifted the bird and placed it in the box. How lucky that I had thought to wear gloves that day.

Without breaking into a full run, as I didn’t want to jostle the poor creature, I made it back to our apartment and laid on the doorbell. When I heard my husband hit the buzzer, I yelled up, “Throw me my car keys! I have an injured bird!”

And he did, no questions asked, bless him.

I hightailed it to my car and placed the box with the bird on the back seat. As I was starting to panic, I tried to control my breathing. WHERE was I going to go?

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