March 08, 2003

A soft spot for bottom feeders

It is a wonderful thing to wake up in San Francisco. This day was actually sunny, filled with cool air and just the faintest smattering of Saturday morning street noise. I hadn't slept well; I was visiting Leah at her aunt's house, where she was house- and cousin-sitting, and the two kittens had kept me awake with their restlessness and loud purring. Watching the people stroll along Irving, though, made me wish for a life there, in the not-too-urban Sunset District. We had pear-blueberry scones at the Arizmendi cooperative bakery, sitting outside on a bench (three cheers for the "make loaves not war" sign, augmented with a peace symbol constructed from bread! three cheers for the friendly workers and the yeast, butter, and coffee smells! three cheers for the toddlers of the neighborhood and their oat biscuits!).

I fed the little starlings my crumbs. "They're bad birds," said Leah. "They force out native species." I know this, but I like starlings anyway. They might be the colonists of the bird world, but I admire the way they build their nests wherever they find room, in neon supermarket letters and old iron pipes, singing goofy little trills. I like how they will just wait for whatever you have to offer, as long as it resembles food. The little buggers will even eat nacho cheese Doritos. I cannot believe we humans eat Doritos.

"So do we," I replied. "We do that too. Shouldn't we like them because their way of living so closely resembles ours?" All hail the bullies of the bird world.

Posted by care at March 8, 2003 04:34 PM | TrackBack
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