Yesterday I saw a Blue Jay outside. Not an entire sports fan of them; just a single one. I wonder to where the cardinal we had last week has gone. The cardinal was a great sign and symbol, as I'm a Louisvillain. We base our feelings and intuitions on spring on the cardinal and the red-breasted robin (one of which I also think I saw last week), just as Pennsylvanians believe in the groundhog. But blue jays... what pricks. What? Pricks? Yes, pricks. The most sanguine example centers around a bird feeder, which one or two jays used to guard militantly, despite there being more than ample bird seed for everyone. I mean hey, it's on the humans, and they're buying every round, so why not share? But really, they're viscious, viscious birds. They're still birds, though. Which makes me wonder about Canadia; the most ferocious animal they could muster for a sports team is the Blue Jay?
Nevermind, God. I'm back to not believing in you. Logically speaking, you are the weakest link. Good-bye.
But bright and proud birds, whether for good or evil, I herald as signs of something very vivid, very vibrant. Considering that that is the exact opposite of what I'm living right now, I welcome it. Bring on the interesting times.