Rara Aves

"We have nothing against these good lambs; in fact, we love them. Nothing tastes better than a tender lamb." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

The Charm of Curiosity

There is no doubt that I have waited too long to unveil this revelation. I record it now only because I am aware of a menace of unprecedented revulsion descending upon us—in the most literal sense—and it has become all too clear to me that what I know must be shared.

I dare not reveal any specificity about the location of this occurrence, for I would not wish to bring unwanted publicity or undeserved accusations against this peaceful and unassuming community… and I admit I have the same concerns for myself. Suffice it to say then that the sequence of occasions related herein transpired in the heart of the country, almost at the very center of it.

And the time is now. I began my observations at the commencement of our last vernal season, but as I write this, it is late autumn… and the subjects of my watch have departed. We cannot know where they may have gone, what climate or environment they might prefer, or if they might have other means of journeying besides what I’ve seen… and whether or not there might be more of them or how many.

I thought they were birds! But they turned out to be something else entirely. At first, they might have seemed of great interest and fascination. But then, that source of fascination revealed itself to be utterly horrific and something that could not have been of this world or at least not of the natural order of creation.

It would be helpful, I believe, to describe the setting and something of the circumstances that have brought me to this compulsory moment. I live in a medium sized town, a place that was once just another small community, meeting the interests of the farmers and ranchers of the region, but one that has shown an ambition of development. My humble dwelling faces what becomes at times a busy avenue, for it extends beyond the town’s perimeters to the east and west, becoming a rural conveyance to other towns and to the farms and ranches in between.

Immediately on the other side of this thoroughfare is a rather large ditch, which channels the rainwater that feeds from the abutting streets through underground conduits. This trench usually becomes overgrown with tall grasses and large weeds, making its traversal by foot difficult or impossible. The town’s management of this overgrowth is negligent, to say the least.

There are only a few streets that go across from my side of the avenue to the visible neighborhood on the other side, in part because of the width of the road and the volume of traffic at certain times and also because of the character of that ditch. If I wanted to get from my end of the cross-street nearest to me to the same street across the boulevard, I would have to go two blocks to the nearest crossing and then circle around several blocks more. I draw attention to all of this, because this inaccessibility became a hindrance as I began my observations of the subjects of this narrative.

Directly across this parallelism of road and ditch stands a tall impressive elm that, in the spring and summer, becomes quite lush with leafage. This arbor might be seen as somewhat of a landmark, for it is the tallest tree along the avenue, that side of it having been lined with similar trees in years past. Next to this tree are two smaller ones with no leafage, being that they are dead. But they do stand stoically and provide ample perches for the birds that fly by.

Behind this arboreal display sits an old house, appearing from my vantage point to be somewhat neglected, unpainted and shrouded in disregarded shrubs. Early one morning, as I was returning from a regimen walk, my attention was drawn to this abode because of the presence of flashing lights. There was an ambulance and one or two police cars.

I am not one to gawk. I went inside my own residence, showered, and had some coffee. And it was during my second cup that I casually went to the front door and looked over to see if the activity had subsided… and indeed it had.

It was then that I first took note of a rather large bird perched on one of those lifeless limbs. The distance between us across the avenue, and what with the sky as a background, it was impossible to see any distinctions of it. My interest was piqued when, later in the day, I observed the appearance of a mate. In the days that followed, I held off the desire to get closer, to drive there as I have described, and get a more revealing scrutiny of these graceful avian curiosities.

And graceful they were. I don’t know how many times I stood on my side of the road and watched them launch into the air and soar around in circles, dipping and banking, as if chasing each other in play. As I mentioned, they were large birds, presumably some type of hawk… but I could not make out any coloration, only the silhouette of wings and tails. And then, after flying about for a few minutes, they would return to their perch. I noticed that, after these exercises, one of them would go into the foliage of the bigger tree. And it became apparent after some observation that they had established a nest there, annoyingly hidden from my view.

Two days after having seen the emergency vehicles at the address behind the trees, I learned through a casual conversation that the elderly couple who had resided there had passed away at the hospital where they had been taken. A nurse friend employed there confided that there had been some mystery in the nature of their deaths, and he had not been able to learn more. It would seem that there was speculation of some abnormal crime. The administration had secured the files, and there was talk that the state and possibly federal authorities had become involved.

While I found his conversation intriguing to some degree, I was now weighing the idea of visiting that now vacant locale so as to get a better look at the birds that had captured my interest so keenly, considering as well that my needless presence there could be perceived as suspicious under the circumstances. There were neighbors on the opposite side of the street to whom I might have to explain myself. And so I continued, for the time, to confine my observations to my own side of the road.

It later came to my attention under the most dire of circumstances that those neighbors from across the street, directly across the avenue from me actually, had a very young child. This child had to be taken to the hospital due to some peculiar wounds around the neck area that had become infectious. The condition of the child had become serious enough that she had to be removed to another hospital in the city some distance away.

My friend seemed very disquieted as he related all this to me. And I… in a manner aloof and detached, I could only ask if the parents had accompanied the child. When I explained that my thinking was that I could now go and take a closer look at those creatures in the trees across the avenue, without worry about being encumbered, he abruptly walked away shaking his head.

And I could not have explained my indifference, neither to him nor to myself. My obsession had become self-centered. And perhaps there was some sort of divine reason for this about which I could not have known.

I vacillated for two days, weighing the guilt of my apparent callousness and the throbbing preoccupation of wanting to know the particularity of those winged entrancing creatures across the road. Finally, laying aside the reaction I had received from my good friend, I picked up my camera and got in the car, ignoring every thought and feeling that disturbed my determination of the moment.

I timed my arrival for mid-morning, this being one of the times when I had observed their playful flights. Although the street ended there, some yards before the drainage ditch, it was not a dead end. There were easements on either side that allowed the utility vehicles, and any others for that matter, access to the other streets. As I have described, the one house was markedly in need of some improvements, while the other was much newer and well maintained. The important thing was that they were both unoccupied at the moment.

Casually, as if I were on assignment from some nature magazine, I got out of the car and began squinting into the foliage of the tall elm. I had not as yet espied the birds on this day, so I was assuming they were in or near their nest.

When I caught sight of what I presumed to be the nest, I was rather surprised. I could see only about a third of its edge, and my perceptibility was hindered by the leafage around it and the shadows. But by what I could see, I was estimating its size to be approximately eight or nine feet in diameter! The only birds I knew of that made nests of such enormity were the large eagles. These birds were large but not that large.

The size of this structure suggested that both birds might roost in it at the same time. I had never heard of this behavior among the avians. And from what I could discern, the nest was seemingly constructed with an extraordinary precision, as I could not see any sticks jutting out. The edge was oddly all too smooth.

I began taking pictures from as many angles as I could maneuver. Although the light around the nest was poor, I was sure that I could enhance the images on my computer and get a much better view. I heard some peculiar sounds coming from the nest, and I thought I must have stirred them up. I thought I saw some different colored lights blink on and off, but I assumed this to be just a play of the sunlight and refraction. Then there was another odd sound, and I saw one of the creatures launch itself into the air.

It soared up and away with the usual finesse that had endeared them to me, making a wide turn and circling back to alight on one of the dead branches of the neighboring trees. The bright sky behind it impeded any distinctions, allowing me only the outline of a silhouette. But I snapped a succession of photos, hoping that the program on my computer would give me some clarity and at last present me with an image that would solve the mystery that had been hounding me. What kind of birds were these?

The creature appeared to make some movements of its head in response to the clicking of the camera, reminding me of the bobbing movements that owls make. It looked as if it was looking directly at the camera in these instances, and nothing could have pleased me more. Now I had what I had wanted these many weeks, and I hurried to my car with great excitement. However, as I opened the door, I heard the creature vociferate a sound that caused me to shudder unexpectedly. ‘That,’ I thought, ‘is no hawk!’

Clarifying the Improbable

On the way home, a recollection occurred to me about something I had read once. When eagles build a nest in a tree, they choose the thicker branches about halfway up. Those nests weigh a ton or more, and the smaller branches at the top cannot hold the weight. Something about the nest I had just seen did not make sense.

This discrepancy and that of the discomforting sound that I’d heard uttered by the bird as I was leaving became further bothersome as I entered the complex where I resided, for there, I caught sight of the creature as it flew above my car and into the foliage of a tree in my own front yard. I could only assume that it had followed me, and although that idea filled me with some trepidation, this was only the beginning of the unimaginable phenomena I was about to uncover.

As I got out of the car and approached my front door, I heard that blood-curdling sound again. I turned and looked up into the tree, but I could not see the creature. However, I was overcome with a most foreboding feeling, as I doubtlessly sensed that it was watching me. That sound seemed almost like some sort of threat. I hesitated at the door, thinking, ‘It’s just a bird… one bird… why am I getting so freaked out?’

I went straight to the computer and plugged the camera in. The images were dark, as I had expected. Those of the creature showed little promise, so I selected the ones of the nest, since they did have a little more color. And as I adjusted the light and contrast, I was shocked and dumfounded with what I began to see.

That was no nest! It appeared to be a camouflaged metallic lenticular container of some sort! It had rods attached to it that ran down and anchored it to the thicker branches below. That was how it managed to rest up there in the densest but weakest foliage. And now, I could see that what I thought had been light refractions had actually been marker lights of some sort on the sides of this imponderable object. I could think of only one thing that it could be.

I then turned my focusing to the other pictures. I had to crop the images considerably to zoom in on the central character. This rendered them rather grainy, but the program has the feature of adding pixels to smooth out the image. I then had to adjust the lightness and contrast until its attributes became discernable. And for a long moment, I sat there open-mouthed and stared into those images in disbelief.

The creature was perched, so its wings were gathered in, but I could distinctly make out large taloned feet with four toes showing on each. The rest of its body, however, appeared to have very human-like configurations. It had arms with hands crossed over its chest! It was wearing some sort of clothing!

But its face… its face made me freeze in horror. Although set in like a person’s, its eyes were bright red. I had captured the images as the creature was looking directly at the camera, and now, I saw that it was glaring into it with anger and menace.

And below those fiery eyes was a short grotesque snout that showed what can only be described as a lamprey’s mouth, round and full of teeth. On seeing this, I immediately wondered about the creature’s feeding habits, and I remembered the deaths in the secluded house across the avenue and the child from the other house. My next thought was that I should contact my friend, the nurse, and show him what I had just discovered.

I heard that sound again. Looking at the character of the creature’s snout, I was reminded of the aboriginal instrument known as the didgeridoo, except that this sound had a pervading and sickening effect to it.

In the corner of the room where I work on my computer, there is a window. Outside, a few feet from this window, there is one of several metal suspenders that support a canopy. These suspenders are constructed with 1-inch square tubing, paired up about eight inches apart and braced with similar tubing. A shadow had fallen on the window shade now that suggested the creature was perched on one of those braces. I could only imagine that this abomination wanted to get at me, since I had stumbled onto its secret.

I moved away from the window and tried calling my friend. I got no response, so I left a message. I came back to the computer, and I could still see the shadow on the window shade, but I quietly sent an email, including the image files, and resigned myself to wait.

The creature emitted its horrible utterance, and then I heard its wings flapping, and the shadow disappeared. Being that it was early afternoon, I reckoned that it didn’t want to be seen. But somehow, I felt I wasn’t safe anymore. Certainly, I would not want to step outside at night.

My friend had not wanted to respond to my call, because he was still upset from our last conversation. But when he got home from work, he found my email, he saw the images, and he read my explanations. He contacted the hospital immediately and suggested that they forward the files to the hospital in the city, where the little girl was being treated.

He then called me and asked if I had learned anything new. I told him about the creature following me home and perching itself outside my window, and about how I was now afraid to go outside… and especially now that night was approaching.

Later in the night, he called again. A great deal had transpired in the last few hours. The file images led the doctors to inspect the child’s pajamas from the night she had been brought in. There, they found traces of a saliva comparable to that of the vampire bat, which has the chemical properties to anesthetize and prevent clotting… and also to cause severe infection. It was unlike anything they’d seen before, of course, but they were able to analyze it and reverse its effects. The little girl was going to recover… in time. Apparently, the damage was minimal because the assault might have been interrupted.

The hospital referred the police to my friend, who was able to tell them where the photos had been taken. It was already about ten o’clock by the time they went there… and by that time, the creatures had gone, presumably in the vessel I had initially thought to be their nest. The police did come to talk to me, but I could add no more to what they had. It was the images that revealed the circumstances more comprehensibly than anything else.

Through the persistent inquisitiveness of my friend, we have learned of other such attacks mostly in our state and in one adjoining. The federal authorities seem to be one step behind in all cases, and the creatures seem to have learned that they cannot stay in one place after one or two attacks.

Watch the skies and the treetops, especially the tall densely leafed ones. The first attacks occurred through open windows when the weather was hot. But something was used to make openings in the screens by corroding the material into a fine powder. It was done quietly, and it is known now that they can do the same to glass.

The government is intent on procuring and preserving the creatures’ technology, but we do not really know how much of that technology has not yet been directed against us.

r. nuñez, 7/2018