A couple of days ago I was walking M through the neighborhood when we approached the block of S.9th and S.10th between Wythe and Berry. After living in this neighborhood for 7 years, we've certainly been past this way before, but not in some time. The first thing i recall noticing when approaching the area was a sharp, repetitive caw. A noise that I now recognize as an all-too-serious warning, but at the time it felt like city background to me. Upon crossing the street onto the block, the next thing I noticed was being dive-bombed by a bird. Not once. Not in passing. But continuously for the length of the block. This bird would swoop down on us as we walked and then cut back up and re-perch in a tree along the path, readying for another pass and all the while shouting her warning. Initially I found it amusing. Probably because M seemed to be the main object of the aggression. I've grown used to just about everyone in the neighborhood thinking M is some sort of feral beast simply because of how he looks, and since M didn't seem to react too much to the bird I didn't either. Eventually the block ended and the crazy bird remained on her turf. Unusual animal behavior. It happens, I thought, and we continued on our walk. This morning M and I once again crossed the DMZ into the bird's territory. The siren caw began. She knew it was us and was to make certain we would think twice about ever walking this way again. The attacks began and with more intensity. Not only did she reign down on M, close enough this time to make him jump; she also zeroed in on me. I could feel the air from her feathers as she swooped an inch away from my bare neck. I instinctively lurched forward to avoid contact. My senses were now on fire. The attacks were more frequent and her retreats not as remote as before. After buzzing one of us she'd slowly pull back and sit on the fence next to us, merely feet away. We turned the corner, but she continued the salvo, her war cry steady. A couple of times I turned to face her and we stood still eyeing each other. I wondered what it would be like to smack a bird out of the air. But before I could fully form the idea she attacked again and we resumed being pushed out of her claim. Finally we had reached the end of her roost. She stood perched high on a wire watching to make sure we didn't return. A woman from across the street was laughing at us. She said she watches that bird chase people off the block all day long. She has a nest there and she's protecting her young. I guess even in Brooklyn, nature sometimes prevails.
