A sad little drama played out in my side yard today. The mother starling, a worm in her beak, could hear her baby's cries. She stood on the grass and looked up at the sealed-off vent, where I had tried to discourage her from building her nest. She would fly up under the eave, and then, finding the entrance closed off, retreat back to the ground, walking in circles and still holding the food that would save the life of her offspring.
Meanwhile, in the newly mown backyard, starlings by the dozen pick their way through the grass cuttings, walking delicately and finding the occasional treat. I'm being punished, I know, for allowing my landlord to solve my problem so cruelly. The scratching all night long would have kept me awake, if I hadn't been so exhausted from the same noises the night before. I hope never again to have a night as bad as that one was.
What with all the bird torture and greenery whacking that's gone on here the last two days, I don't feel quite as much in harmony with nature. I even tried to see if I could get the screen off, but it's permanently attached. I did some laundry today, thinking the hum of the dryer might be soothing in my prisoner's last hours. Also, I was out of shirts.
By the time my shirts were dry, all was quiet inside the wall.