A high-fibered pelican cut short Molly’s bike ride one sunny day in Florida nearly six years ago and set off a lifelong mistrust of all feathered creatures that only intensified this year when her Freshman English Class read Daphne Du Maurier’s “The Birds.”It probably didn’t help that, thanks to her older sister Katherine, Molly saw Hitchcock’s “The Birds” when she was four-years old.
A majestic owl spent time in our neighborhood and some of us liked to listen to its mellow hoots. Having been po0ped on by a pelican during her formative years, Molly resisted the owl’s sweet song, and later she found an eviscerated bunny in our yard, proof, she said, that birds were evil.
All eyes turned skyward last summer when, on a family rafting trip down the Oconto River, two bald eagles soared right overhead. Molly ducked.
I staged an aviary intervention earlier this year when I brought Molly to a small hobby farm and introduced her to the ducks and chickens there. Aloof and unimpressed she held back until the farm’s bird royale made an appearance. Miraculously, Molly bonded with the ironically named Chicken the Peacock.
One small strut for a Peacock, one giant leap for Molly-kind.
I snapped a few pictures during a quick trip to Florida this week. A tree full of vultures made me very glad Molly had stayed home. Enjoy!
