I’ve never seen the movie The Birds in its entirety. I saw part of it on television once when I was a kid, but really the only thing I remember is a scene where a couple of people hide from a pack of crazed birds under an overturned boat in the water. To be honest, I don’t remember where in the movie this happens, or even how the scene ends. I must have been too scared by it and turned it off. Those birds were intensely angry, dangerous, and blood-thirsty, and I think it’s scarier because I don’t even remember what made them so. While I’ve heard that it’s a good movie, and I actually have grown to like scary movies, I absolutely refuse to watch the movie now. Maybe I’ll watch it when the summer is over, but right now the film is too close to real life for comfort.
You see, in the past few weeks, I’ve had a massive bird problem. It’s nothing like the scale of the bird problem in Hitchcock’s Birds, but I’m worried it might be getting there. Right outside my apartment there is a tree whose branches are absolutely covered with little red berries. In this tree live about a hundred birds of all kinds– robins, cardinals, weird little black ones… you name it. They’re lovely to wake up to in the morning and lovely to listen to during the day.
The only problem is that these birds are absolutely psychotic. No, I’m not joking. I did say psychotic. And I mean it. Psychotic. What’s wrong with a few birds, you ask? What could these little bundles of berry-eating, song-bringing joy possibly do wrong? Oh, I don’t know. How about we start by figuring out why they keep kamikaze-style bombarding themselves into my window?
I have absolutely no idea what is going on, but these little guys have been crashing into my windows for the past two weeks and it’s starting to freak me out. Six– SIX– crashed into my living room windows yesterday alone. According to the internet, there are a few possible explanations as to why that might be happening, the most popular of which is that they see a reflection of the sky in the window and think the building isn’t actually there. But as far as I can tell, the internet doesn’t have anything to explain the other weird things some of these birds who have been doing, including the two yesterday who tried to land on my open window (who would want to land on the sky??) and the two who sat on the ledge outside my window for about fifteen minutes staring straight at me. Oh, yeah, not to mention the two I’ve caught today alone trying to peck their way through my window screens.
Thank God this tree is behind my building or I would be afraid to walk outside. I doubt that these birds are actually going to peck me to death a la the Hitchcock film, but I’m too cautious to not consider it as a possibility. And that makes me smart, right? Not crazy? Because the last thing I would want is my brain to be pecked out by terrifying feathered stealth fliers. And unless The Birds secretly holds the key to calming my avian friends, I am going nowhere near it until the summer is over, my lease is up, and I am safely out of this apartment. I don’t need any more images fueling my bird-induced nightmares.
UPDATE 6/6: Thanks to BJ for suggesting the movie in the first place!