feral birds : part i
It occurs to me with all this bird action around here I may have turned out even worse than I worried I might. For a while there I thought I might end up The Mad Dog Woman of Laurel Canyon.
[So did my neighbors. They kept round the clock surveillance and when there were sightings of me whenever I left or came back to the house they got very excited and clustered around the window and whispered so loud about me I could hear them across the street. “She’s leaving the house! She is wearing the red dress again! Shh! She’ll hear you!” Really. I am not making that up. One time a friend picking me up said, “Um, why are your neighbors whispering really loud, ‘She’s with a man!'”]
Also there was the cliché of the single woman with too many cats to worry about. Which I sort of worried about. Except not really. I knew I was probably safe there Jones would have kicked any other cat’s ass just for talking to me. But now. No dogs. No cats.
Wild feral birds I think I have some sort of relationship with.
where the art work comes from :
that is dove in a córdoba’s square by Adorna2007
[also it is a bit altered please do not get riled Adorna]