I was sitting outside at dusk and there was a weird little flicker of color that caught my eye. It turned out to be a little female bluebird trying to walk across the street, dragging her wing. I crossed over and picked her up in my shirt. She didn't have any blood on her or anything, but it seemed clear that she couldn't fly or use her wing, despite being very perky. I called the Wildlife Center, but they were closed for the evening, so I followed their after hour instructions and put her in a safe box with a towel where she would be warm and safe from the other pets.

I can't tell you how beautiful she was. Big, dark liquid eyes that were the shape of raindrops, and so blue, dark dark indigo with an almost rose tinge to her breast feathers. She was profoundly perfect, this small object of pure loveliness. I've seen and handled lots of birds before, but it really struck me differently with her. 

The next morning, I woke up and she was alive, but only barely. She had made a little nest for herself in the towel and was sitting on it as if she was sitting on eggs. She could barely move. Before the wildlife center opened at 9, she'd died. 

*

Ah, another anecdote about a bird. Well, here's something else. I'm heading to the beach tomorrow for my annual trip with my mom, so that will be a change of pace. I like a travel day where I have no agenda, nothing really expected of me except to at some point get my body from my house to a point four or so hours south of it. I like to stop at farm stands and take the long way. I like to travel on my own. I guess that was something about San Francisco, kicking around during the day on my own with no real agenda, even if that whole trip is a little tinged with how sad and upset I got on the last day. But hopefully this trip will be okay. I want to stop at Wegmans and buy fancy cheese plate stuff that I don't even have a plan for and cans of wine.

As for the sea, well, the sea and I have been seeing a lot more of each other since I started working on this tattoo sleeve down in Virginia beach. It won't be the first, or even the second time I've seen it this year, so maybe some of the romance is gone out of it. (Although when have I ever let that be the case about anything?) Still, the house we always stay at is on the ocean, a luxury I can rarely ever afford when traveling otherwise. I like having access to the beach at whatever hour suits me. I like seeing the different shades of the water as the weather and the day change.