Bird Head

After I arrived in Florida, I wrote about my skull collection, in particular the buffalo skull that I picked up in New Mexico. The worms, the stink, the solution. I have not met too many people who also collect skulls. A young man named Ben, a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer did.

When darn near everything I own has been in storage for four years, I am careful not to collect too many things, which end up in storage with the rest of my worldly possessions the next time I drive through Tennessee on my way to a new adventure, a new place to live or back to Dad’s house in New York. So far, it has not been for a new job.

I arrived home yesterday and took the tour around the house with Dad. Yep, I saw the 75 year old elm tree stump Robin and Dad dissected for me. It’s a beaut. The two tomato plants with marble size green tomatoes. It will be a race to see which comes first-the frost or ripe fruit. The rose bush Mrs. Smith gave the family when mom passed way. The new tar patches in the driveway (no that does not involve mastodons sinking in black goo). And the dead trees targeted for removal by me and dad. Oh boy.

As the inspection was finishing up, I passed by the garage, noting the variegated ground cover below the windows. When I took a closer look, I found the remains of a finch. Apparently, a casualty of a midair collision with the window.

Fascinated by the tiny pieces of what was once a bird, I carefully picked through the dull yellow feathers. I found a foot, and the cranium. Then the beak, the upper bone with the nasal passage and lower jaw. What a find. So fragile. If I had a pair of tweezers I could recover more, but I was just after the skull and with luck, the bill.

I need a tiny jewelry box, a piece of cotton and another trip to Tennessee.