Moving Up in the World

Never mind its suicidal flight pattern, a last minute reverse move to intersect my vehicle's unchanging direction. I killed a bird, a female tri-colored blackbird, and her death agonizes me. Everyone's been offering the same line of consolation to a sobbing Sylvia: that human life is more precious than that of any bird. I have to admit, I find myself sort of smirking at the swell idea that my life is precious and that I'm human. For reals! I'm not really a Care Bear! I suppose now I could employ my human potential and write to the people responsible for setting a freeway in an animal infested location.