Do you know the situation when you wake up in the morning, remember yesterday’s events and you want only one thing - for this to never happen? I'm sure everyone has had a day like this. This is usually a day of great loss. One of these days was the day of the death of my stork, Beak.
We were under occupation. The russians constantly bombed us, then russian tanks drove through our streets. It was a terrible experience. But then I learned something else that I had never thought about before.
Wild birds do not tolerate the sound of explosions well. If chickens or pigeons are more or less calm about this, then for wild birds this is terrible stress.
Before the war I had eleven disabled storks. When they started bombing us, every morning I got up and... buried one of my birds. The one who could not bear the stress, whose heart could not stand it. And then one day I buried Beak.
He was my little bird. I raised him from the moment he fell out of his nest and injured his wing. He was like a puppy: cheerful, curious, trusting. From that day on, I didn't cry anymore. I felt like I was frozen.
I took these photos on the set of a program about infertility, where we were invited. Beak was a real actor that day. Today I was sorting out my photo bank and found them. My favorite bird, which remained forever on the other side of the war.
