It's the one straight ahead. It's the east side of the building. It's reflecting the Chase building in the tall windows. 51 floors. Yeah, notice all those windows? And you know that Windex commercial where the windows on that house are so clean the birds keep crashing into them? That's what happens to my building. Birds swoop down and see the pretty flowers on display in the lobby and smack themselves right into the building. Except it's not funny. They don't shake the dizzy stars from their heads and brush themselves off and join their birdy friends perching in the nearby trees or power cables. No, their buddy friends don't laugh. Nobody laughs, because it's not funny. I've felt the slightest vibration in the air twice in the past two weeks, early in the morning. Vibrations that hinted that something wasn't quite right with the world. Not necessarily related to world disasters. Two separate vibrations, the tiniest of pulses in the air. Two birds caused these vibrations, at different points in time, when they collided with my work building and glanced off the cruel windows and died. Dead. Two in the past two weeks. I found the first one last week and the next one this morning. I promise I won't be documenting all these misfortunes. They've sucked a little bit of life out of me. I need all the little bits of life I can get.

  

 Do these photos remind you of a certain classic horror film?

















Y'all these cheepers were in Austin. AUSTIN. The flocks were enormous, and they were loud. They were rather chatty. They weren't tiny little wrens or sparrows. They made me nervous. At least they weren't pigeons. And they didn't actually swoop down and attack me.