The Aborted Baby Bird

It broke my heart. I had just noticed in the last couple of days that a nest had been rebuilt on top of the little speaker mounted above my sliding glass door in back. Happiness. Birds. New life. A thriving ecosystem.

Somebody else noticed too. In the interests of maintaining confidentiality, I will call him Mr. Oviraptor. I saw him, a much larger bird than the little grey one fluttering around him. He swooped onto the nest and begin tossing down shreds of nesting material. I chased him off. Not 5 minutes later, the nest was torn completely in half, tossed to the ground, and 2 pale blue eggs lay dashed upon the concrete. One was wiggling feebly in the remnants of its shell. I felt sick. This is horrible. This crime. The bully just came in and ended these small lives.

And as I stared and then turned away, I thought about how we humans do this to our own offspring in the womb. It is unconscionable.
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