After my last post and my foolish assumption that my son would fail to meet a bird at close enough proximity to satisfy his curiosity, we did in fact meet a bird and would have got to say hello if my son hadn’t lost his cool cookies and started shouting like he was being attacked by a mob of angry monkeys.
It turns out that in actual fact a bird merely flapping his wings too close to him is a loud enough noise, coupled with the obviously completely unexpected motion of the bird flying away, to send my son for the apron strings with a girlie I’ve-just-seen-a-mouse shriek.
Anyway, back to our close encounter of the feathered kind. We were at the park and we had stopped our frolicking to have a snack on a set of steps nearby. There were a number of large black and white birds milling about and they were completely unperturbed by the human animals that they were sharing their unnatural habitat with. They quite clearly see humans often and have learnt that they are an easy source of food. One bird in particular was really not as scared of me as I would have liked, read not at all. He was quite happy to engage in a stare down, one beady little red eye at a time. I carefully tried to stay out of his way while my child tried equally hard to get into it.
So we sat on the step, the bird watcher was busy eating away at his corn thin and looking in the trees and all about for all the birds that he could find whilst probably imagining the many happy fun filled friendly hours they would spend together if only his mother had longer legs and could lift him up to the trees when I noticed the bird mentioned above only a few feet away from my sons back.
“Look behind you.” I suggested, expecting my child to make a grab for the bird and give him a suitable shock that would send him flapping for the trees but alas, the one time an animal skittish about experiencing an over-loving child moment would have made my day, my son froze to the spot and simply stared yelling in a low pitched tone of terror “Ahh, ahh, ahh, ah, ahhh!” I thought the screaming would bother the bird, at least into keeping a social distance between us and himself but instead of fleeing in fear he brazenly made a grab for my sons corn thin, took it right out of his little fingers and so instead we had an eat and run with the bird making a clean get away from the scene of the crime and my son needing a cuddle to regain his composure.
Eventually when he calmed down he asked “We go home mummy?” and I thought that would be the end of his birdy love affair. Once again, I was wrong. As we were leaving there were some birds across our path and he turned to me and said “I hello?”.