I saved a duck today.
As soon as I heard the thud on the windows behind my work cube, I knew another bird had made a fatal mistake. Cleaned monthly, our shiny office windows are a perfect reflection of the sky and trees that surround the Columbia River facing them from the east. Only last week, I came across a Belted Kingfisher that died from impact after of believing the lies of those damn windows. I was too late to save him.
But I saved a duck today. I found the Mallard hen on the concrete two floors below the window she hit, trapped on her back. Her feet swayed back and forth in the air, trying to swim to safety. I couldn’t leave her there to die. As I reached for her body, I hesitated, fearing she’d bite. “Ducks are related to geese and geese are mean as hell,” I thought, expecting her to hiss or snap at me. Bending forward, I reached my hands around the back of her body, careful to avoid her beak. Her eyes blinked, convincing me she wouldn’t fight. I moved my left hand to support her weak head and marveled at the softness of the feathers surrounding her body. “It’s okay,” I whispered, hoping to calm the heartbeat thrumming through her flesh and into my palms. “I won’t hurt you.”
I saved a duck today. But I couldn’t stop the men with masks covering their faces from tearing a husband from his car and dropping him to the ground in Portland, Oregon. The video showed him yelling in Spanish, “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” The echos of George Floyd in my mind as I watched the video of the ICE agent pressing his knees into his back. The man’s wife, guarded by another agent, yelled (also in Spanish) from the passenger side of the car, “Help me! Help me!” Her screams still haunt me.
But I saved a duck today. I carried her up the steps from the lower landing to the company lawn. It borders the public park next to the river where flocks of duck live year-round. Concerned about the Bald Eagles, Ospreys and other birds of prey that she’d be vulnerable to in this stunned state, I found a soft spot under a tree, hoping she’d be camouflaged from attack. I set out a small dish of water and crushed some nuts from the company kitchen in case she needed something to eat after recovering.
I saved a duck today. But I couldn’t fill up the emptying shelves at our local food bank that’s inundated with needs of hungry families whose meager SNAP benefits are about to end because our government leaders are putting a higher priority on building ballrooms than feeding its people. SNAP benefits help supplement families, many who are trying to survive on incomes from American companies that don’t pay a living wage. Hungry children struggle in school, which reduces their chances of being successful at breaking the cycle of poverty.
But I saved a duck today. Keeping my distance, I watched from my desk inside the building as she recovered. The rapidly fluttering feathers that matched her ragged breaths began to steady. After 20 minutes, she lifted her head and looked around, her awareness of her surroundings coming into focus. After an hour, she stood up and wobbled down the sidewalk, eventually joining her community on the water.
I saved a duck today. But I couldn’t save a young woman who took her own life in Vermont. The 21-year-old was in her senior year of college, double-majoring in computer science and statistics. It was too late for me to tell her she mattered, that she wasn’t alone, that she had a community that cared—despite the fact that her right to exist as a human in her own body was being questioned by leaders in the U.S. government, and that the specialized suicide hotline she might have called for help had been ended this summer by the same divisive and hate-filled leadership.
I saved a duck today.
I’m devastated, because I did what I could and it’s not fucking enough.
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