dead magpie
to my left, a boy in a field that is almost always empty. he caught my eye during my walk to work as he threw pinecones at something slender on the ground. a tendency toward evil in his laugh. my feet stopped moving of their own accord and i stood there, statue-like on the pavement, watching the boy’s assault on what appeared to be a dead magpie. mockery in the face of an innocent’s death visibly bringing him immense joy.
two girls his age ran toward him, backpacks bouncing, fresh off the schoolbus. they seemed to know each other but not well enough, since the boy abandoned his thrashing on the deceased when the girls approached. i waited, curious to see what the girls would do. they pulled out their phones to take photos.
i’ve taken photos of dead things before. in fact, almost every time i come across a bird’s feathers or body, or a deer carcass or coyote skull, i collect them. carry them back to my studio where i make art from the remnants of their bodies. to honour their life and the infinite cycles of nature, i’ll craft necklaces and crowns for myself and for others who know the value of a life. any life.
my brain told my legs to keep walking but the wires got crossed somewhere along the way. i was going to be late for work, but i found my feet still cemented to the sidewalk, eye twitching, heart racing. one of the girls began filming the other one. i watched her lift a scuffed red converse shoe and slowly crush the magpie’s skull. they laughed hysterically. and again.. heavy foot the flattening bird’s head. more maniacal laughter.
my blood boiled. tears filled my eyes as i realized i was already running toward them. i had no plan, no idea what i was going to say, i wanted to scream WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?? and STOP!! but nothing left my mouth, and didn’t need to.. the two girls scattered and fled as soon as they saw me coming.
alone, i crouched over the dead magpie. noticing how strangely perfect it looked, left eye facing cloudy atmosphere but peacefully closed. no visible injuries. sweet angel held by dirt and grass, returned to the Other Place. i suddenly became aware of ten, no - twenty other magpies in the bare maple tree behind me, cawing, screeching, shrieking louder than i’ve ever heard. the bird’s community gathering and growing.
i backed away and watched as several magpies flew to the earth to surround their departed friend, creating a circle around its limp form. the birds in the earth-circle cawed in unison with their flock in the tree above.
they cried their death-song, mourning their departed. i went on to work with a warmth in my heart, knowing that they got to have their funeral.
also, lately..
⋅˚₊‧ à¨à§ ‧₊˚ â‹…
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Lovely. Best post today.
I take pictures of dead things too. There is something so beautiful about every living creature, even in death. And the irony is that you can get closer to them when they are dead, really see the details, the small perfections, that you can't see when they are alive. I haven't yet made art out of any of them, but I feel those images of feathers and bones are stored somewhere deep and could become art someday.
The story of the destructiveness of the children breaks my heart as a mother who has worked hard to cultivate a love of nature in my children. My children share my fascination with creatures living and dead and are often the ones to point out to me the carcass of a baby seal, the bones of a bird, the claw of a crab. We are so disconnected from nature and from death. I would like to think the reaction was a reaction to death itself, a sort of primal rejection, a lashing out from not knowing what to do. I'd like to think it was a kind of momentary insanity. But I fear it as a signpost of what we've lost-- like Robert MacFarlane's Lost Words poems-- our humanity diminishing. As even the birds themselves have more reverence for their dead than we do.
Thank you for capturing the beautiful and the ugly and the heartbreaking.
I've never seen a corvid funeral before, your video was very moving.