Hitchcock Goes Awry

Alright, so the weirdest and spookiest thing happened today.

Because I hadn't cut my lawn since before my trip out west, I knew that one way or the other I had to get it cut this weekend. Yesterday it rained, so my options were limited; therefore, I was up and cutting my lawn this morning shortly after eight, a Sunday morning crime if ever there was one.

Now, before you start to curse me on behalf of my sleeping-in neighbours, know that I have a chicka-chicka-chicka, not a power mower of any kind, so it's quiet and polite. But that really has nothing to do with my story, apart from setting the scene.

In any case, I was in the back, mowing away, when there's this thud on my little deck to my left. I look over and it's a bird and it's not moving. At first I'm thinking it's done the old fly into a window trick, even though there are few windows and they're not big on that side of the house, but it's looking really ... um ... well ... dead. Its wings are tight against its body and its legs are all jutting out.

So I'm just thinking a combination of "That's kind of sad if it's dead" and "Great, where am I going to put a dead bird?" when there's another thud, this time on the grass behind me. I turn and, sure enough, it's another little bird gone all legs up. Now I know that one didn't hit any window, because at this point I'm paying attention, and not mowing (with my ever-so quietly operating mower). In any case, I have to move that one, or I can't even finish mowint, so I go into my little shed to get a garden trowel to scoop the little tweeter-no-more up.

And that's when things got completely freaky.

No sooner had I stepped over the threshold of the shed than they started dropping like rain. Thud. Thud thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud thud. They were falling all over my backyard, on the shed's roof, and on my car. At this point, I'm pretty much creeped out and my mind starts going, "Are they dropping only on my house? Is this like something from The Witches of Eastwick*? Have the neighbours put a curse on my household for some reason?"

Then comes the real decision. What the heck am I supposed to do? Stay in the shed? Make a run for the back door? The idea of having a dead bird drop directly onto me is NOT appealing.

Luckily, almost before I can even think to make a decision, it stops. I stick my head out, trusty trowel in hand and ready for some indeterminate action, should the need arise, and look up at the sky (which is clear blue with no sign of a bird-cloud of any kind). Nothing else appeared.

In the end, I scooped fifteen birds (mostly robins and chickadees) and bagged them for Friday's garbage scoop. I don't really have anywhere to bury that many. I'll tell you this, though, I felt a bit like an Egyptian during the plagues. It was CREEPY!

Alright, so none of that really happened, apart from me cutting the lawn, but it is sure a heck of a lot more interesting than the actual events of the day.

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* I've included the link to information about the movie The Witches of Eastwick, but I think I'd be remiss if I did that to the exclusion of the original novel by John Updike.