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The Harpy and the Tupuxuara

  "You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair." - Old Chinese proverb The nest in my hair is enormous. Built by a harpy eagle in 2019, it houses nails, skins, feathers, hair, and armadillo shells. Pellets dot the twigs. They mix with dozens of bones; Arms, legs, backbones, pelvises, and skulls serve as a horrid reminder that life is fragile and death a reality we all must face.The skulls, in particular, look eerily familiar, almost human. [ reference ] I was bitterly angry at the bird when it first appeared. It's a vociferous creature seemingly possessing only a few call variations. Every jarring death reminder is met with WHEE-ooooo . I became accustomed to it over time. I was at peace with both bird and nest. Until this week. Until Monday. The harpy eagle returned to perch atop my head. Its WHEE-oooooh shook the rafters and deafened the ears. Sharp talons bit into my skull. I di

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