Its eyes pierce my soul. It is passing its judgment over me. Drowning me in its disappointment. How could you, what have you done? The words echoed through my confused mind. Did it talk to me or am I hearing its voice inside of my mind? Telekinesis, Kyle. A world was created in my mind, but I could hear it and the weight of its words clouded my world.
The Crested Barbet (Trachyphonus vaillantii) looked over me like it was some kind of god. Its eyes searched my soul and all it could latch onto was my own disappointment in our own species. The bird feasted on bread thrown to it by visitors, creating this cycle of domesticating wild animals.
According to Wikipedia, their diet consists of insects, birds' eggs, fruits and once and a while mice. But we feed it bread. What have you done, it asks me, as if I should know what thoughts went through the minds of the people who threw a piece of bread. I am reminded of the story I heard that bread is actually harmful to birds as it swells in their stomachs making them feel full, meanwhile not having much nutrition for the bird. So they become malnourished even though they are eating.
It looks at the piece of bread and asks me: What am I supposed to do with this? It cannot fathom the stupidity of humans, of us. How could they feed me this? It will make me sick. Only if we could talk to animals...
What have we done? In our quest to be nice, we poison. Hell is paved with good intentions, they say.
In any case, this is such a beautiful bird. The yellow feathers contrasted with the black ones make for such a beautiful display. I could not stop watching it. It is the first time that I have seen this kind of friend.
Its judgemental stare just gets me. I cannot stop looking, it feels like it is sucking my soul from my body. It passes on the judgement it feels for our own stupidity.
And then the comical moment, the feather sticking from its wing. All seriousness ceases. I take the moment to laugh at the situation. The judgment falls way into comedy.
My intrusive thoughts wanted to pull the random feather from it. But I could obviously not do it.
Postscriptum, or A Hidden Reference
If you caught the hidden reference in the post, I am impressed. The lyrics of an obscure song, maybe some would have heard it. Not many would I presume.
In any case, I hope you enjoyed these photographs of this beautiful friend. It looks like a rare bird, but here it sat so used to human interaction. I am so lucky, like all my other shots, to have witnessed this beautiful bird. And I am so lucky to be able to share it with you.
All of the photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Tamron 300mm zoom lens. The writings are also my own, if not they are hyperlinked.