I have a " thing " for birds. I love to watch them. Feed them. Like the young seagull I fed my lunch crackers to this morning in the parking lot downtown by the drycleaners. He waits there every morning for his ( or her ) usual round of people that come by offering treats. He is so big, that I think of him as a beach turkey. He is so easily pleased and as I walk away I smile to myself over this secret tryst we have had so early in the day.
Anyhow, I think of birds like they are little beads that decorate the beach. Live beads. Pretty, moving beads. At the big chain pet stores, I watch the birds in the cages and wonder if they are happy. It seems like they are well cared for but do they dream of their days flying high in jungle trees, jungle skies? What are their eyes saying? What do their hearts long for?
These are pictures I took this week in that big, cold, impersonal pet store where this little guy called to me as he stood in the colors of his make believe world.