Each bamboo cage holds a bird
Outside Chiang Mai Wat in Thailand, an old woman sells birds in tiny bamboo cages. For a pittance you are granted the power to free a creature into the sky. I bought them all.
The largest bird cage I’ve seen rests on the summer patio of my favourite restaurant (Fall River, outside Perth, Ontario). It’s easily 8 feet across and 6 feet tall, several feet deep and full of twittering colours making quick jumps from side to side to side, from top to bottom to top.
I stood in front of it one afternoon wondering at their lives- the crowding, the sweet breeze sweeping in, the untouchable sky. I felt that it was like sitting in a classroom in the spring when the only thing you want is Out, when your body yearns to run, and the clock will not tick.
After 10 minutes or so, a man at a nearby table said, “Can you imagine how it feels to be able to fly but unable to fly?” I answered immediately. “I know how that feels. I am stuck in this body.”
It’s supposed to bring luck to open a tiny bamboo cage in Thailand and free a tortured soul, but really it’s like ringing the dismissal bell at 3:10. It’s like being God and allowing death.
