VADAVIAN

BIRD DAYS

Some of the trees had tea bags hanging from their branches. I could smell the varieties of tea as I passed through the forest. Camomile, jasmine, English breakfast. It was soothing and nauseating at the same time. One of the group members coughed suddenly. It was loud and startling and I could feel it against the hair on the back of my head. Motherfucker why are you walking so close behind me. I almost punched him. But then I looked up at the trees with their teabags and felt calmer and amused again. Nature is so soothing that way. Why are there no birds, I thought. But then I remembered what the guidebook said. There were bird days and no bird days and so it had been since the 1970s. This must be a no bird day, obviously. How did the birds keep track, I wondered. And where did they go on the off days. I felt a mild superiority over those in the group who hadn’t read the guidebook and just wondered about the lack of birds. Simpletons and morons. Content with a birdless existence. The moss was soft underfoot and kind of made me drowsy to walk on. I decided to look down at the moss as I walked for a while. Mainly because I wanted to admire the moss, vaguely hoping it would notice. I wanted the moss to feel just as appreciated and admired as the trees and the teabags. I wondered too if the moss minded being walked on. I tried taking lighter steps so that the moss wouldn’t get hurt. Someone in the group asked why I was “prancing like a fairy”. I just ignored them but went back to walking normally. With fully weighted footsteps. Sorry moss. The wind began to pick up a bit and my hat moved. I reached up and held it for a second to keep it from blowing off. What if it did blow off, I thought, and fell onto the ground but for some reason I didn’t notice and it ended up just lying there. For years. And the moss slowly grew over it until it was covered completely. How would the hat feel about that I wondered. I secretly hoped it could sense that I was protecting it and looking out for it by holding it on my head as the wind picked up. I tried to look up at it and offered it a wink and a smile. But it didn’t seem like the hat noticed. There was another cough and I thought oh great. Coughing in the forest instead of being quiet and respectful. I hoped they would fall behind and cough somewhere else. Like into their own hair or eyes. Something flew past my face. It can’t be a bird I thought because it was clearly a no bird day. But I swear I could hear wings. Or a fluttering, if you will. I half wanted to turn my head to look after it but what with the wind and all and my lonely hat I decided against it. Oh well. Probably just a huge insect or little demon or something. Why was the ground getting softer now all of a sudden. Like spongy and wet. The wind had picked up so much it was almost stormy. And loud. Well at least it would drown out the cougher. Maybe it was a bird though. We had been out here in the forest for so long now it could actually be another day. A bird day. I don’t remember it getting dark though. So it probably hasn’t been night yet and that would make it the same day. But the ground. Spongy and wet. And warm. Hot, actually. How could the ground be hot. It must be another day though because I do remember seeing stars through the trees and the teabags. So that would make it a bird day. What a relief. That must have been a bird that flew by. It’s nice knowing there are birds in the world. And trees. Especially trees with teabags. Even if the ground is spongy and hot. Oh well.