I worked and birded in the yard all day. For days, there’s been a red-breasted nuthatch I can hear loud and clear, but he won’t show himself. I’ve never seen a red breasted-nuthatch just heard one. And certainly not here. They prefer thicker woods, higher altitudes and cooler climate. But here it is, in my backyard. I can hear it, but I can’t see it.
At night, I fell asleep while watching “Neagly,” a series deliciously violent–she’s Reacher’s Army buddy so you know it’s violent. A sound woke me up. It sounded like the doors in my garden shed had slammed. I muted the T.V. to listen for more wondering if I should reach for my gun, but I didn’t hear it again. I heard distant sirens. When sirens are heard out here, it’s never a good thing. After that I couldn’t go to sleep so I went online to see if I could find out what happened.
Highway 299 at Whiskeytown closed both ways. Fatal head-on collision. Fire from one of the vehicles started a vegetation fire, which firefighters immediately put out.
Depending on which way the wind is blowing, if that would have spread, it would have been immediate mandatory evacuation for me. I continued to doom scroll as I always do and more details surfaced. High-speed head-on collision. Both cars caught fire. One exploded with three passengers inside. Four dead and two injured. This was reported by a passer-by who got out to help. One car was completely engulfed in flames but the other one wasn’t on fire yet. He broke the window and got the two injured survivors out. The driver had died on impact. Another commenter was a woman, “I saw it all really mess me up wish I hadnt see that. [sic]”
Christ, I thought. That would have been extremely traumatic to witness. I hope everyone in the car, which burned had died on impact. I tried to imagine the accident knowing exactly where it happened, living only a mile away, and I couldn’t picture it. Even if someone was passing in double-yellow lines, that part is straight and flat. You’d have plenty of time to see someone coming at you and move over. Maybe they had their headlights off. Was one of the cars pulling out of one of the trails there and got on the highway on the wrong lane? They would have been going slow. I felt bad for the first responders who had to clean up that mess. I wondered what had woken me up, the impact or the explosion.
I eventually fell back asleep to dream of things related to the crash. In the morning, a text woke me: “I’m so sorry. Mr. Vireo died this morning.”
Aww, the little bird I rescued didn’t make it. Victims of window strikes rarely do. I’m glad he wasn’t left to die alone in the hot sun, probably being taken by a cat. Even little birds deserve to die with a little dignity. I tried little one.
My Love is for the Birds - Sketches 