The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good

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Melody walks through the door and memory flies out the window (or in, rather)

I saw a either cardinal or a robin today while riding my motorcycle. I remember when that used to herald the coming of spring. I think they made a particularly big deal about it in Louisville; I don't remember too much being made of it (if anything) after we moved out. I still remember the robin's nest we had in the sapling in our back yard. And how my friend/neighbor's little brother shook the tree and made the nest fall out. One of the eggs survived, but we knew that birds won't come back to a nest that's been disturbed. It's hard not to conflate beauty and fragility, but those eggs were the most beautiful things in the world; as surely as were they gemstones.

Later, his older brother, who was not quite my friend so much as in my neighborhood and around my age, cracked his head open on some concrete in front of our house. I remember my father telling me not to play on the grass because it'd been sprayed with pesticide, so we decided to jump from one side of concrete storm drain to the other to get from the sidewalk to the curb so that we could cross the street. We all made it, except for this kid, who must've gotten scared and pulled up short at the last moment. He cracked his glasses, and there was blood everywhere. I don't think I've ever seen so much blood. And part of me wished it had happened to his brother, to have his head smashed open as he'd done to our eggs; denying us the song of the young robins we'd been so long anticipating. But the kid was okay; he just needed a couple of stitches. The blood and broken glasses made it look worse than it was.

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