The Sulphur-crested Cockatoo

We have a lot of birds where I live. Most of them make beautiful sounds…all except one. The Sulphur-crested Cockatoo.

This is what the Sulphur-crested Cockatoo looks like.

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Beautiful, isn’t it? (Image source: Wikipedia)

This is what the Sulphur-crested Cockatoo sounds like it looks like.cockatoo2

I’m a Murderer

When I was little I loved all animals and insects. In fact I loved them so much that sometimes I accidentally loved them to death.

Like when I fed my fish – day…

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and night.

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It was months before my parents realised what I was doing and we had gone through countless fish (and backyard funerals).

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Then there were the skinks.

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I could never understand why they didn’t seem to live very long in their little skink houses. The homes I created for them had absolutely everything a skink could ever want! Grass…dirt…water…

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When I was a little older I spent a whole day trying to help cicadas out of their shells – partly because I was impatient and partly because I knew they had such a short life span. I just tried to get them out into the big wide world as quickly as possible.

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There were no survivors, but I learned my lesson and never tried to hurry them again.

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There was one particular incident, however, that haunts me to this day.

When I was about six I discovered a little nest in a small tree around the side of our house. I was absolutely beside myself as I had never seen a nest that close up before, let alone looked inside one. I was dying to take a peek at what I imagined would be a nest full of cute little baby birds.

The tree wasn’t much taller than me and I figured it wouldn’t be too hard to climb up and have a peek inside. The only problem was, the mother bird was always sitting in it and I didn’t want to scare her, so I left it alone.

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One day I came outside to find the mother bird gone.

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I couldn’t quite see inside the nest, so I tilted it slightly towards me.

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I got to see the three most beautiful little eggs tucked cosily among the twigs and leaves…

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for about one whole second before they toppled from the nest and smashed upon the ground.

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I was a monster.

I felt so guilty that I didn’t go around that side of the house for many months – I couldn’t bear to return to the scene of my crime. I also had paranoid fears that the mother bird would know what I had done and peck out my eyes with her little beak.

But that was all a long time ago – I was just an innocent, curious child. I shouldn’t carry any guilt for those unfortunate accidents.

karma

But I do.