It was on September 15 , 2006 just after lunch that I took a walk down a Toronto residential street which had been plagued by loud construction noise from one, particular house all summer. The house was one of those oversized, bull-in-a-china-shop types which would never look right on the street anyway.
Every fall, for generations long past, a large flock of grackles have migrated south over that location and stopped to rest and eat along the way. They are a part of nature which was meant to be.
A young squirrel, whose habitat was also being disrupted, made pitiful, repeated cries of disorientation and pain at the ongoing, loud noise of the construction. The large flock of grackles perched in the tall, white oak while the construction workers sat down to eat lunch. Unexpectedly, the grackles started biting off unripe acorns and letting them fall to the ground. Most of them landed on the car below, sounding like an intense staccato of hail. Some landed on the next car too. The grackles were fighting back!
The men at first thought it was the squirrels. After a few more minutes of the grackles continuing to pound acorns on the car, the worker who owned it came over to move it. "I'll get my shotgun out after those birds!" he yelled. The grackles had successfully exposed the violence inherent in the construction activity.
The rest is up to us. The grackles have done their share.
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