One other incident which I experienced reminded me of this film: once while still at home, I was in the kitchen when one of my sisters yelled from the living room that there was something in the fireplace. I went into the room and sure enough, I could hear something moving around in the fireplace (which has doors on it). Not knowing what else to do, I opened the doors and a bird, which must have fallen down the chimney, flew out and started flapping hysterically around the house, slamming into walls. My sister and I opened the doors and, grabbing towels, waved and flapped them, trying to herd the bird outside. We eventually got him out, but it was really hard, and our nerves were considerably frazzled. The clip below from The Birds is a bird/fireplace episode which is way, way worse than ours:
Here are a nephew and niece bird watching together excitedly. Personally, I've never much liked birds. They're fine outdoors, and I actually do like to watch the ospreys back home swooping down and grabbing fish out of the lake, but I'd rather not have them up close and personal. My dislike probably started at an early age, influenced by my grandmother. My grandparents' driveway had a big tree overshadowing it and birds used to sit in its branches and er, relieve themselves upon the car. My grandmother would come out of the house, glare in distaste at the bespattered vehicle, and say in a tone of loathing, "Dirty birds!" We heard her say it so often that it's become a family expression. I had reason to echo her sentiments when, during high school, I worked at a local daycare center. One of my jobs was to clean the budgie and hamster cages, which I didn't enjoy. The two budgies seemed to take a peculiar delight in waiting until I had filled their water trough with clean water, then perching on the side of it and pooping in it. "Dirty Birds!" At least once a year at Sullivan's Pond- home of many water fowl- there is a report of some unwary pedestrian stranded atop a park bench, having been chased up there by a hostile goose. Generally the goose then circles around the bench, hissing, lunging and trying to bite so that the benched individual is completely demoralized and unable to escape. And don't even get me started on swans, with whom I had a run in at Lake Windermere in England. The thuggish birds expect tourists to feed them and can get aggressive if you don't. I saw one reach right into a baby stroller and snatch a cracker out of the poor child's hand, then poked his head back in, looking for more as the child sobbed, either in fear or because he no longer had a cracker. If you've ever been to Trafalgar Square in London, then you know that the statues and surrounding buildings are routinely covered in pigeons. When I was there, someone eating their lunch dropped part of it on the ground. Suddenly, the sky darkened as hundreds of birds took flight and dove for the fries. It was not my favourite moment in London, and it called to mind The Birds, Alfred Hitchcock's 1963 horror film about birds gone bad. I've seen this movie once: I don't want to watch it again. One other incident which I experienced reminded me of this film: once while still at home, I was in the kitchen when one of my sisters yelled from the living room that there was something in the fireplace. I went into the room and sure enough, I could hear something moving around in the fireplace (which has doors on it). Not knowing what else to do, I opened the doors and a bird, which must have fallen down the chimney, flew out and started flapping hysterically around the house, slamming into walls. My sister and I opened the doors and, grabbing towels, waved and flapped them, trying to herd the bird outside. We eventually got him out, but it was really hard, and our nerves were considerably frazzled. The clip below from The Birds is a bird/fireplace episode which is way, way worse than ours:
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