Death of a Green Finch
"How can you jubilate sitting in cages?"
For opening night of Sweeney Todd, a friend of mine gave me a green finch as a gift. Yes, a real live bird in a cage. How crazy, yet poetic and thoughtful...so I named her Johanna Bird. She was he was a rare green Lady Gouldian Finch from Australia. She was beautiful, and would chirp all day. Another friend of mine, who knew they thrived in pairs, bought me a boyfriend bird for Johanna Bird a few weeks later. I named him Picasso because of his bright bold coloring. As soon as they were together, they were so much happier. Chirping all day, scurrying and flying around the cage, they seemed to be content, they seemed like they loved each other...
"Are you discussing, or fussing, or simply dreaming? Are you crowing? Are you screaming?"
Finches are very fragile and delicate. They need special care and attention. They are prone to sickness and must be warm at all times....
Yesterday afternoon, I returned home from running errands and my birds weren't making any noise. I thought it odd, but continued my routine. After a few more minutes, I walked up to the cage to find them both dead in the bottom of the cage. They were laying close together. Head to toe, facing each other. Johanna's eyes were open and Picasso's were closed. It was so poetic and sad. I began to cry, thinking that maybe the finches were sick and I had no way of knowing. Or maybe the changing temperatures from my apartment heater made them die. It is still a mystery. I wondered if Johanna died first, and then Picasso refused to hold on for life. I wondered if they tried to help each other up, chirping to each other, staring at each other. It was such a Romeo and Juliet moment...starstruck lovers, trapped in a caged existence.
"If I cannot fly, let me sing."
Looking at the place where the cage used to sit, I am strangely at ease. Birds aren't supposed to be in cages. Though beautiful and seemingly content, living in a small cage in a west village apartment is not where a bird should live. They are free now, to sing and fly, somewhere. When I sang "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" last night at the show, my thoughts of confusion, death, freedom, rest, and sadness for the birds surfaced. They will always be in my mind now when I sing this song...
For opening night of Sweeney Todd, a friend of mine gave me a green finch as a gift. Yes, a real live bird in a cage. How crazy, yet poetic and thoughtful...so I named her Johanna Bird. She was he was a rare green Lady Gouldian Finch from Australia. She was beautiful, and would chirp all day. Another friend of mine, who knew they thrived in pairs, bought me a boyfriend bird for Johanna Bird a few weeks later. I named him Picasso because of his bright bold coloring. As soon as they were together, they were so much happier. Chirping all day, scurrying and flying around the cage, they seemed to be content, they seemed like they loved each other...
"Are you discussing, or fussing, or simply dreaming? Are you crowing? Are you screaming?"
Finches are very fragile and delicate. They need special care and attention. They are prone to sickness and must be warm at all times....
Yesterday afternoon, I returned home from running errands and my birds weren't making any noise. I thought it odd, but continued my routine. After a few more minutes, I walked up to the cage to find them both dead in the bottom of the cage. They were laying close together. Head to toe, facing each other. Johanna's eyes were open and Picasso's were closed. It was so poetic and sad. I began to cry, thinking that maybe the finches were sick and I had no way of knowing. Or maybe the changing temperatures from my apartment heater made them die. It is still a mystery. I wondered if Johanna died first, and then Picasso refused to hold on for life. I wondered if they tried to help each other up, chirping to each other, staring at each other. It was such a Romeo and Juliet moment...starstruck lovers, trapped in a caged existence.
"If I cannot fly, let me sing."
Looking at the place where the cage used to sit, I am strangely at ease. Birds aren't supposed to be in cages. Though beautiful and seemingly content, living in a small cage in a west village apartment is not where a bird should live. They are free now, to sing and fly, somewhere. When I sang "Green Finch and Linnet Bird" last night at the show, my thoughts of confusion, death, freedom, rest, and sadness for the birds surfaced. They will always be in my mind now when I sing this song...
posted by Lauren Molina at 7:28 AM
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