The Birds

Anyone who has ever seen Alfred Hitchcock's ”The Birds” has had an excellent occasion to develop a mild to intense fear of birds, perhaps you even break out in outbursts of cold sweat and girlish screams any time an evil little sparrow has a feeding frenzy in your backyard, and as he ravages that poor, defenceless worm or seed with his horrifying beak, he tilts his head slightly to give you the evil eye, just for a tenth of a second, so you’re left wondering if you really did see what you think you saw. Was it an illusion, or did that sparrow just let you know who’s on top of the food chain in your back yard? You’ll be waking up screaming for a week on end, that’s all you can be sure of.

Personally I’ve always viewed birds as cute and cuddly animals, you know, that sweet way they tend to just...fly around...and...do stuff. You know, they eat...and chirp...and nest and shit. However, resent happenings have left no doubt in my mind that birds are EVIL.

Now listen, window cleaning may not be at the top of my priority list when it comes to preferred spare time activities, but when mother nature slaps me across the face with a hellishly dirty window that makes the neighbours cross themselves when they pass my house, I manage to take a hint. And that’s what I did, I rolled up my royal sleeves and did my best. The result was naturally stunning, so stunning it couldn’t be photographed, sort of like the presence of Zeus can not be viewed by mortals, it would simply kill them...and besides, who takes pictures of their newly cleaned windows anyway? Ok, I do, but that sort of ruins my whole point here, so work with me.

Having finished, I spent a few hours admiring my reflection in the shiny, sparkling glass square, then night came and I was forced to go to bed, but as I had done a good days work, I was quite happy about it. It’s what met me the very next morning when I pulled back my curtains that still makes me cry to this day, and luckily I managed to pull together enough brain power to take a picture this time. If you have a weak heart, look away now:





Five wormy napalm bombs had been dropped on my beautiful window in a wild shitting fest, with a precision that even would bring shame upon the only sober man in the loo at a night club after midnight. The actions that took place that night will forever scar my window. I keep wondering how birds manage to dive towards their target at such a speed, without ending up as a red dot on the rain gutter above, but then I remember how birds are EVIL, and that evil has the best tricks and the most dedicated kamikaze fliers, whilst you, the simple mortal with the shiny windows...you have cleaning detergents.