but throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey

ornithophobia is not a fear i ever particularly saw myself having.  younger, i may have scorned it.  why would anyone fear a bird?

now that i possess it--however justified it may be, i lament on just how crippling it is.

you probably do not remember the last time you saw a bird, because they are, simply put, everywhere.

think about just how many birds there are, even now, in winter.  think of how many birds there are in your city,  your town.  you cannot escape them.

wherever there are people, there are pigeons, and if not pigeons, then gulls, and if not gulls, then murder after murder of crows.  the town i was raised in was famous for crows.  crows everywhere.  crows always.  their incessant cawing was a comfort, when i was younger.  i took solace in them.  they're bright birds, did you know that?  some are even better with tools than primates are.  and yet, so misunderstood.  so reviled.  what outcast would not want to become a crow?

now, they hold no mystery, no appeal.  no bird does.  the elegant swan, the peaceful dove, the rambunctious crow, all give me dread in the place of wonder.  true, not all of them hold the same terrible force that drives those i flee from...but how can i tell which flock can split the heavens and which is simply driven by brute consciousness?

i think we take birds for granted.  true, these days we do not have much to fear from them, but we forget about the mighty terror bird.  we neglect to remember how the more terrifying of the thunder lizards are the modern avian's close relatives.

i fear i'm rambling.  it's hard not to.  i'm finding this is my only release.  i have been taking shelter, when i can, where there are no windows, though i hold no illusions that they cannot simply find my door, veiled in the willing flesh of a traitor to our species.  most probably, a traitor i once called friend.