I wonder what it's like to be a bird. I want to write about it. I know that birds don't live carefree lives; they spend all their time feeding themselves, and they fall prey to so many dangers. Nevertheless, because they fly, they seem effortlessly happy.
At the moment when I took these photos of an Antillean mango hummingbird on a wire right above our gate, we were hearing about chaos and burning on the streets of our city, Port-au-Prince. The bird, above it all, didn't care. Instead, he danced.
Here's a poem I read this week about a bird asking the opposite question: what's it like to be human?
by Anna Kamienska
translated by Grazyna Drabik and David Curzon
What's it like to be a human
the bird asked
I myself don't know
it's being held prisoner by your skin
while reaching infinity
being a captive of your scrap of time
while touching eternity
being hopelessly uncertain
and helplessly hopeful
Here's the rest. Read all the way to the end to see the punchline, the bird's response to the human's description of what it's like to be human.