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Summery Summary
Aug. 30th, 2009 09:50 pmApparently the renters who moved in next door have gotten a pet bird that makes a loud wolf-whistle. I heard the whistle first a couple of days ago when I went out early in the morning. The acorn woodpeckers were perched on the telephone pole chuckling, so I don't know if the whistle was meant for me or them. But it was an unmistakable wolf-whistle, and sounded like it was coming from the house next door. I've seen no bird. The curtains there are always drawn.
I heard the whistle again this evening, as the truncated afternoon was collapsing into a distended late-summer dusk. I was indoors, there was nobody on the street, the woodpeckers had gone to bed, and I don't think anyone was home next door. Perhaps the bird has a mirror nearby, and whistles at its own image. Perhaps it whistles from loneliness.
Of course it's possible that there is no bird, and the whistle comes from one of the tenants of the house, from someone who gives no sign of being there at all, but I don't want to contemplate that. The image in my mind thus retains is of a bird, caged and alone, passing the time with a signifier it doesn't comprehend. It's a familiar state.
( Sunday Verse )
I heard the whistle again this evening, as the truncated afternoon was collapsing into a distended late-summer dusk. I was indoors, there was nobody on the street, the woodpeckers had gone to bed, and I don't think anyone was home next door. Perhaps the bird has a mirror nearby, and whistles at its own image. Perhaps it whistles from loneliness.
Of course it's possible that there is no bird, and the whistle comes from one of the tenants of the house, from someone who gives no sign of being there at all, but I don't want to contemplate that. The image in my mind thus retains is of a bird, caged and alone, passing the time with a signifier it doesn't comprehend. It's a familiar state.
( Sunday Verse )
