Written by Darrell Smith

Its call beckoned me on a morning walk on the prairie
Hysterically, noisily, yet not disturbing
Wildly, frenetically, possibly in protection mode
How many humans had it seen
Though I meant it no harm
It had no experience to know that
Frustrated and looking straight ahead I ignored the killdeer bird
What right did I have to impose on its narrow, shallow zone of exploration in the muddy, small-animal, teeming waters of a hibernating rice field
Yet, so enthralled by its cry, paralyzed and unable to move I remained frozen, not breathing and my heart seemed to stop
Appearing dead, with no visible signs of life; I’m a statue on a levee sandwiched between a flooded bayou and a flooded rice field
Another flock of birds takes flight creating a choir of killdeer operatic singers
In the middle of this natural phenomenon I think to myself, maybe a dream, seriously
My breath held for too long begins to flow again, my heart beats quickly, and I’m alive again witnessing this breathtaking, everyday ritual on the prairie
Animals without the upper hand, rely on our kindness, respect, and admiration as together we share the South Louisiana Cajun Prairie

Text © Darrell Smith