Bird On A Wire
by Michael Daniel

I sat in my back yard under the forty year old sycamore tree
watching the wildlife come and go. A lone desert tortoise,
an occasional squirrel, butterflies and all manner of
crawlies, scurrying here and there in great anticipation of
the birth of Spring and the provision of Summer.
I have become increasingly fond of birds in the last couple
of years and have very much appreciated their company as I
feed them each afternoon. I have a particular affection for
the four different species of dove that gather to delight in
the black oil sunflower seeds, milo, corn and
other grains I
scatter about for them.
Mourning
Dove, White Winged Dove, tiny Inca
Dove, all vying for their share of the delectables along
with Sparrows, Blue Jays, Cardinals and dozens of other
species. The ones that seem to be the most aggressive and
stubborn, however, are the Eurasian Collared Doves. It's a
curiosity that they will tolerate dining with the other
species, but on occasion will utter a distinctive growl and
chase away their own kind. You'd almost think they were
Christians.
Well, this afternoon I was taken aback by the obstinacy of
one
unyielding Collared Dove and a very unstable highline wire.

Gazing skyward I
observed an electrical electrical line that hadn't been
strung nearly as taught as the others and lo and behold THIS
was the line that Mr. Collared Dove happened to light upon.
The moment his small talons gripped the wire the circus show
commenced. The line swung to and fro and bounced up and down
and Mr. Dove became the daring young bird on the flying
trapeze. He wildly flapped his wings in an attempt to
stabilize himself and the more he flapped the more drastic
the situation became, but would Mr.
Dove relent? . . . he would not!
Mr. Stubborn, I mean Mr. Dove, wasn't about to let his
chosen perch get the best of him. Tighter and tighter his
claws clutched the wire as he fearlessly (ha) flailed in
feeble attempt to secure his own stronghold and balance
himself. The highline became a boinging, bouncing, jumping,
jerking rough riding roost, The more Mr. Dove wriggled and
wiggled, the more the line jiggled and the more I watched
the more I giggled. Yes the more he flounced and flapped the
more the line flipped and flopped and finally Mr. Dove had
had more than enough and just let go. He hit the ground with
a plop and laid there dazed, dizzy, desperate and confused,
all because he just wouldn't be still.
It was quite a frightening ordeal but when Mr. Dove regained
equilibrium and his senses returned he remembered why he had
come . . . he was hungry.