“Avian Expectations”; by Hemlock; November 15, 2024
Being a bird is probably one of the most romanced identity. Being a bird means nothing, behavior wise, scientifically. Yet, being a bird portrays something very specific into people’s mind.
Being a bird is freedom. It’s effortless flight, belonging to the realm of air and never wanting to touch ground again. Being a bird is adventure, migration. A good half of movies about birds are about overcoming the thrilling dangers of going over entire continents in one year, the reward of seeing an exotic haven far from the cold. Sometimes, being a bird is being a strange endearing critter, voice mimicry, stealing shiny things, cuddling up and preening one’s flock. Other times, being a bird is a sharp beak and sharper claws and being the Predator from Above, undefeated in the heights.
I’ve seen a lot of people question birds with that idea of a bird in mind. And, clearly, it can be true. One bird I know is migratory to her very core, the pull of Africa leading her to travel, irresistible. Another deeply intertwined with the drop of gravity as it’s ultimate strength, entire biology built to master it.
But I cannot relate to people who go into questioning bird from the perspective of the Pop Culture Bird Homonculus, of this chimera of all the Cool Bird Traits. It seems like a fictional character to me, without all the little details that make being a bird real. Perhaps it is because I break all of these core traits.
I do not fly well, I glide when I must, and more often I run. I much prefer the ground. I am not migratory, and one part of being a roadrunner to me is Territory, and Surviving winter. I’ve never had the luxury of fleeing the cold, as much as i dislike it. I do not mimic all that much, I am solitary, I hunt by running along the grass. Barely bird, in the eye of the Being a Bird rules.
Rules say, then, i should not relate to being a bird. perhaps being a roadrunner for me would be akin to coyotes. Perhaps it would be akin to cats. But no, i do in fact relate to birds.
As it turns out, there is still a strong difference, for me, between the Being A Bird non-birds imagine and the actual one. I don’t fly, i glide, i struggle to get to heights. A heavy sea eagle responded, saying how they felt flight as tool, from perch to perch, to scan for prey, too costly to waste in play.
I say that i hunt on foot, that i do not relate to the dive of the kestrel or the flight of the swift. A burrowing owl answer; saying they too prefer hunting grasshoppers from their height, sometimes perching but often just lurking around the grass.
I say i am alone, i do not have a flock, and a heron responds, why should you ? You are fine on your own.
I have met flightless cormorants, I have met penguins. On the contrary, I have met falcons, I have met corvids. The shapes of birdhood shift and change, but in the end, I tend to find someone for each things, be it bird like or not. Bird is a wide ground. Bird is a simplification, so that others can understand a flawed but easy view.
I am not A Bird, by pop culture definition. Yet i am very much a bird who relates to being extremely far from me, behaviorally. honestly there’s a point of no explanation. I share phantom feathers with them and beaks, but i couldn’t be further from a hummingbird. It’s a strange conundrum. So close yet so far, every species that talks about it. always slivers of Me-Truth, always things i just gloss over. a bird is not an animal, its a concept. i wish people would take that in account more before diving it.
