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BIRDS, FOOTWEAR

The scientists are doing what scientists have always done, what their long and specialized training has given them the skills to do: they are revising their previous estimates. Now they are saying that global temperatures won�ft be 2 degrees higher a hundred years from now, they�fll be 3 degrees higher, which means I guess powerboats on Park Avenue and pirogues on the Champs Elysee, though I�fll be in heaven by then. Anyway, I can tell you this morning that the scientists are way off already; it�fs six degrees higher right now than it was last year. Here it is December, and I look out my window and the trees are full of birds looking at their watches, singing �gWhat time you got?�h �gIs my watch right?�h �gIs this December?�h �gWhat are we doing here in December, aren�ft we supposed to be in Southern China right now?�h And such like birdsong, depending on the species. The crows just cock one eye to it all and say �gWhat the�c�h then resume digging in the compost; reality is, after all, reality. The crows do not seem to be revising their estimates. Unlike us humans. I came out of the house this morning and it was April. It�fs very unsettling, like when you suddenly notice that one sock is green and the other is your foot.