dream walkings

1998 – Spring, Texas

At a certain hour, one of the last stops on my drive home from work has a way of making me forget about the previous hour of bumper to bumper torture.

It’s the little birds sitting on the wires at that last intersection. I’m not sure what kind of birds they are but they are small and black. There seem to be hundreds of them all lined up on the high wire. All jostling for position.
There are so many of them crammed in together up there. Every time one flies in for a landing, taking advantage of the slightest opening, the whole line hops over creating a little hopping domino effect. It is quite comical, or so it seems to me. It makes me wonder what they would think, these little black birds, if they could see inside our corporate towers. I think they would be equally amused by our very similar antics.
I imagine that this is the end of their little black bird day. They are lining up for our show of stupidity as we each make our way home, caring nothing for each other, protected by our rolling metal boxes. The objective being to make it as quickly as possible out of the rat race through a series of near misses, shouted obscenities, road rage, prayers and tears to what we consider our real lives, our safe havens. Odd isn’t it, the little birds would say, that these humans do this day after day, spending their lives in their towers of glass and steel – a self-made bird cage.