I was never into bird watching.
Bluejays, Ravens, Cardinals - they look one and the same to me and generally draw beer drinking, hot dog eating millions to stadiums around the country. Yes, it's true that I generally associate birds with baseball, Edgar Allen Poe (the Raven) and also bird poop splashed on my windshield.
We also have our political affiliates - hawks and doves - that divide up our country in times of war. With my Picasso inspired vision of a hawk with red wings and a dove with blue wings, I think about the bar in Washington, DC, Hawk & Dove, where young politically minded capital hill staffers gather around pints, no - kegs, of beer, forgetting that their debauchery may someday ruin their presidential aspirations. Hawk and Dove is also a pair of DC comic superheros. They are dressed similarly to my previously mentioned image and I wonder- what was the color of the dove which brought an olive branch to Noah, waiting in his ark?
Although I've worked in the policy world - I'm not one to regularly express political commentary. And so I'll talk about birds instead.
This week, I've felt like a hawk and at times a squashed dove. Road kill almost.
Three weeks ago, there was great news of a swap between Israel and Lebanon that would hopefully bring home two of our missing soldiers. And it was this past Wednesday that we finally brought our boys home - in caskets. We traded live terrorists who entered back into Lebanon Hollywood style on a red carpet, as heroes. The families of Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev laid to rest their two year search for their loved ones - burying their hope of finding Ehud and Eldad alive, and beginning the mourning of their boys, proof of which alluded them for two years and four days.
And still, the Jewish State will continue to negotiate for the return of Gilad Shalit who will hopefully return from captivity in Gaza back to us - alive. We will trade thousands of criminals for our boy. We will probably offer land for peace. We've given innocent blood - for peace.
And in return, all we've received is bird shit.
The following song, most relevant to this piece, really opened up my tear ducts today. Check out David Wilcox's "Three Brothers."