By Luke Fox
A mockingbird lands on a bedroom windowsill. Looking in. Curious as only mockingbirds can. Seeing a lot going on. Noticing a multitude of movements, gestures and sounds. Human bodies are moving in all directions; going up and down, shouting, screaming, and sighing. Overacting as only humans can do. “Have they taken their feathers off? Are they fighting; over food? The long feathered specimen must have very hungry children,” the mockingbird ‘thinks’. The small, feathered friend of the earth shakes its head and flies away. “Let those humans do whatever they want. I will never understand them. They are not my kind.”
Misanthropy?