The one that did not make it

It is so easy to fly around now a days. So much food and so much space. The tree's shade serves a purpose, bikes have replaced a few cars, people's moods are better, overflow of picnic baskets get left behind on tables, kids are in the parks and roads are clear for birds to play on. Swoosh swoosh. The magpies that day reminded me of Tarzan. They swung from tree to post to tree and their callouts sounded like laughter. The older magpie, which is entirely my guess based on her body language, made sure that all stuck to the rules of the game- which was "who gets to finish off the watermelon massacre in the middle of the road". They did not seem stressed by the traffic as that day there seemed to be none. Also I live on an elm-hovered cosy street where the kids do not like to play. The magpies had no competition and any lone car that passed by was no hurdle by any means. Irrespective, haven't magpies always managed just fine even if they had to eat the same melon on a busy blvd? I still get a bit scared when birds on the roads decide to eat something off the road until you are almost on top of them. Fly away birdie, shoooo, oh my god did I kill it, screeeeechh. And yet I never had to worry since they are so skillful and adept at what they do. Sometimes they even do an arch in front of your windshield to show just how sassy they are. It's what I thought would happen that day. I saw the car 2 blocks away. Since the game began, I had moved closer and closer and was right by the gate. A casual smile had made me turn my head far enough to catch a moving engine. Plenty of time I had thought. The magpies will clear out by then. They were quite excited. All of them were on the road and were talking as they ate and I saw the two little ones learning to feast on summer deliciousness. The engine moved quite fast and probably expected them to scatter away like they are famous for, and no oh no, is that a screech? The driver got out, and i got out.The tire had gone over the soft body and the alpha was still alive, but barely, and not responsive to the water I brought to the beak. We moved the body by a tree and left to give the other magpies some space. I wondered if the younger ones were surprised or sad that their teacher was gone. What happens at times like this? What would I do if I lost my mentor? How does one sit with loss that occurs on multiple levels? Death is so permanent sometimes, and loss even more so. The driver and I sat on the sidewalk and watched the magpies negotiate the change. I am sad. Are they? I do not see a change in their interactions except its a bit quieter. I wonder if there is a documentary on them like the one on crows. I want to know how they will fare. Death is not so bad say Buddhists, but does Buddhism apply to magpies or just humans who crave spiritual orgasms.

It was a god day to fly. Except for the magpie who didn't make it. But then again it depends on who you ask.