Why I Fear Birds

I have to admit something here, something I think I have admitted to perhaps one person before - I'm kind of afraid of birds.

I have a full-blown fear of spiders; I will scream if one comes near me and run quickly in the other direction (with the small exception of the tiny black-and-white jumping spiders just because they're tiny and adorable and their eyes are funny).

My fear of birds is much more understated, but it's there. They don't make me scream and run away, but they make me feel uneasy, and perhaps a bit nauseous.

It is not that they can fly; in fact, I envy them that. It's not their unerring ability to completely cover my windshield in what used to be berries and worms.

It's their pointy parts, and their dead-looking eyeballs. And also probably the fact that, as a child, I came across a dead baby bird on the sidewalk that, when flipped over, was nothing more than an empty shell filled with so many ants and maggots that you could hear them. Squit, squit.

Today, while I was outside taking pictures of planes flying overhead (see Scraps), I heard the usual annoying bark of my neighbor's stalker dog (it sees me move, inside my house, from window to window, and will bark at me from there), only, ratcheted up a few notches from its normal insanity, followed by a cacophany of squawks and screeches. I walked around the side of my house to find the silly dog pawing at something, with about five black birds dive-bombing him.

I walked up to the fence, and the dog, being a cowardly thing, backed away, but continued to bark at the spot. Just inside the chain-link fence cowered this tiny ball of cheeping fluff.

I lifted the bottom of the fence, reached in, and took the tiny bird out of the neighbor's lawn (avoiding the creepy beak and eyes as best I could while being dive-bombed by mom, dad, and the local Bird Police). I carried it as gently as possible to the middle of my lawn, where I set it down and snapped a few pictures (the camera was around my neck).

I ran into my house and thoroughly disinfected my hand, thinking the entire time of Bird Flu Or At Least Fleas And Mites. I returned with a grubby towel, found a branch with a lot of leaves, and went back to where I'd left the little thing with the intention of making sure it at least had shade, and would have returned with a misting bottle, but in the three minutes I'd spent inside, the baby bird and its family had left (though I am fairly sure it was not yet capable of flight, but what I know of birds can fit on a 2"x2" piece of paper. Double-spaced. Large font. I don't even know what kind of bird this is and it's right in front of me).

Anyway, take a good look at that picture and tell me birds aren't terrifying. I'd never noticed before that these creatures are directly descended from Audrey II.

Color photograph with color leached from all but the Sarlacc.