Student Bloggers

Alright, let me tell you about The Bird. This creature is pure malice. My interactions with the bird began my first night/second day in Weerona (my residential college). It was an amazing first night with a talent show and everyone getting together for some beautiful music and funny skits. This event ended around 10 pm and after the day of travel I had endured, I needed to go to sleep asap. So there I was, comfortable in my bed (though it was hot and humid that night) sleeping like a rock and enjoying the sweet silence that comes with the end of the day. The next thing I knew, I was awakened. Something outside my window was screaming. Not a human kind of screaming, a shriek of raw energy, exploding into the pre-dawn morning. I looked at my clock, wondering when it was that I had awakened.

Six in the morning.

It was six in the morning and something was erupting a series of inhuman screeches into the slowly glowing sky. I lay in bed, hoping that soon this would end. I think I got back to sleep? I don't quite know. But I eventually arose to face the day. What I did not know was that this was only the beginning. I have been here two weeks and alas, every. single. morning. Six AM comes every morning, and every morning this gods forsaken bird has flown up onto the roof, right above my room, and cried into the empty sky.

I know exactly which bird it is. It is this one cockatoo that lives in the courtyard and flies within a mile radius. It follows us to the bus stop, it sits on the roofs of the buildings, it flies in circles and emits its horrible sounds until the sun goes down. This bird. “The Bird.” Others claim to hear it in the mornings, it has been spotted around the area throughout the days, it has made us all victims of its awful existence. This bird fills me with fiery hatred. I hope that one day I may adjust to its noise. I hope that one day I will awake from a full night's rest. I hope that one day I will wake with the sun of my own accord so that I may record its wailing and share it with those of America who will probably never know this pain. I have dreams that one day people will understand this experience, that they will no longer laugh as I rant about my sleepless nights, and that they will be haunted by the lament of The Bird for the rest of time. One day, I may look back on this experience and I may even miss The Bird, but I will also shake my fist at the sky and curse that bird for being the most vivid memory I have of my time in Australia.