I’m not sure why, but a little while ago my brain flashed on Franz Kafka’s story Metamorphosis. I haven’t read it or even thought about it for probably 50 years, but I suddenly asked myself what if I turned into a bird.

Would I be a big bird, little one, or maybe medium-sized.

Would I be colorful like a blue jay or parrot, or bland like a sparrow.

Would I be a graceful flyer like Jonathan Livingston Seagull or struggle like a turkey.

Would I migrate and see the world and eat many different seeds and berries or maybe worms and assorted insects or would I be content to stay in one place with a less varied diet.

Would I have to struggle to compete for a mate or would I be in demand for some reason.

Would I have to watch out for cats or raptors.

Would I like to eat fish and would I be good at catching them.

Would my parents nurture me until I can live independently or would they push me out of the nest as soon as I can fly.

Would I have innate survival skills, be shown the way to survive, or be on my own to figure it out.

Would I build a comfortable nest or peck a hole in a tree to raise my offspring.

Would I be a lifelong partner like swans or would I mate and leave.

Would I have a beautiful voice or simply screech to get attention.

Would I live and travel with a flock or be content to live a solitary life.

Thinking about this possibility, maybe life as a bird is really not too much different than that as a human. Our “evolved” brain just makes it more complicated, and we look different.

Ken Kaiyala
3-24-2024