I have a new office, one entire wall is windows. Floor to ceiling view of the nicest part of the campus. I really lucked out here. I also have a birdfeeder outside my window so I get to watch little birds eating away at bits of seed. Important observations could be made about the eating habits of birds, or the social hierarchy something or other. But I made another observation here. Birds poop a lot. A whole hell of a lot. They aren’t terribly discreet about this, but they are fast so I don’t think most people notice. I have windows and time and I see things.
It would seem that every time a bird lands, it lifts its tail and shits. This is the life of a bird. Land. Shit. Land. Shit.
It strikes me that the thought cycle of a sparrow must be something like, “Hey my wings aren’t moving, let me evacuate my cloaca. Is that Phil messing with that finch? Are my wings moving? Doesn’t matter, I’ll relieve myself anyway. Do I like seeds? If I poop now, the answer will be yes.”
I am quite possibly the most important naturalist of the 21st century.