The Birds
Alfred Hitchcock sends his regards!
Excerpt / Reading sample:
Night fishing is the order of the day. The shadows spread further and further across the lake. Surprisingly quickly, the sun disappears behind the grassy mountains. Like long fingers, the lights of the mountain town tremble toward me. Not a straight line on the water's surface. Mallards, coots, and pairs of great crested grebes leisurely make their way toward the shore. The dense reed belt offers a safe place to sleep. Foxes don't like wet paws.
A flock of seagulls flies in a loop high in the air. The weather is holding to the forecast. And I wait calmly for the predatory fish to attack. Equipped with sharp eyes, the darkness increases the success of the hunt. My special bait in tow is supposed to tempt them. More and more clouds cover the sparkling stars. The original breeze has easily turned into wind. Time passes slowly. Nothing moves on the bait. Hope fades.
The weather forecasters are unreliable. The situation changes. Waves rock the boat and heavy drops fall out of nowhere. There are no other boats on the water far and wide. Within a few strokes of the oars, it is pouring with rain. Lightning illuminates the mountain ranges like a spotlight. The echo amplifies the rumbling thunder. The lightning and thunder are terrifying.
The echo amplifies the rumbling thunder. There is frightening lightning and thunder. The only thing missing to complete my horror is a monster rising from the depths of the lake. I find the situation extremely uncomfortable. It is too late to flee to a safe mooring. The distance to the harbor is too long. Rowing is no fun when the waves are crashing against the side of the boat. Waiting and seeing is easier said than done.
I'm not made of sugar, but I don't like braving the cold shower either. In my distress, I throw the tarpaulin over my head. Careful despite my haste, I make sure that the heavy downpour finds its way into the lake water. The barrage of raindrops on the tarpaulin covering my head and other parts of my body feels like pinpricks.
In complete darkness, my sense of time shifts. Suddenly, the sound of wings flapping surrounds me, accompanied by wild screeches. Birds board my boat. In the middle of the storm, they take possession of the drifting boat island. As a camouflaged human, I have escaped their sharp eyes. Little legs scurry along the railing.
Every now and then, a bird even lands on my head or shoulder and digs its claws into my body. Rain gear is so slippery. It simply fights against slipping off. More and more animals are finding pleasure in the safe resting place. The squabbling and screeching steadily increase. The incredible experience paralyzes me at first. I don't move and endure the feathered plague. Carefully, I lift the tarpaulin to knee height. My slit of vision is enough to see the claws with the webbed feet. Seagulls.
Fear grips me. I bang my fist against the tarpaulin and shout nonsense. The seagulls react aggressively to my behavior. They attack the moving and talking tarpaulin. They attack deliberately. They peck at me with their beaks.
Now my composure is finally gone. Anger drives me on. I hate these birds. I don't care about the pouring rain. Panic breaks out among the birds. Some lighten their load and deposit their droppings in my boat. Others land on the water near the boat. The majority gather into a flock and disappear like ghosts in the fog.
At this moment, I am reminded of the film “The Birds,” where harmless little birds, crows, and seagulls play the leading role and terrify the people of the Californian coastal town of Bodega Bay. Instead of celebrating a joyous bird wedding, the flocks gather together. Aggressively, they declare war on the inhabitants of the nest. They flutter through the chimney in droves and lie in wait for people in the attic. With pointed beaks and sharp claws, they attack innocent schoolchildren. They peck at their eyes and try to tear holes in human flesh. After the famous film, a winged piece of wisdom enriched the vernacular: storks bring children, white doves bring peace, and swallows bring summer.
But Hitchcock's “The Birds” gives you pure goose bumps.
Author: Gottlieb Eder
Note: “The birds!” It's one of many incredible stories from my life as an angler! Fischer-Berni.
What a brilliant idea to collect stories from various anglers and make them available to the public in a book!
In any case, it's a varied and enjoyable read from the world of fishing...
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