Hothouse birds and Nostradamus nerds

Friday afternoon I spotted a fisherman pulling a Bird out of the river, on a long line hanging down from the old bridge. I couldn’t see the human at the other end, or whether they had a pole, just the scooter there slowly twisting. The fact that I could tell which brand of bro-mobile it was from a hundred yards made me wonder if I could as easily identify any actual bird at that distance. It seemed like whoever held the line was trying to pull the Bird up, but even that was unclear, the way it would ascend and then drop back down or just dangle. Chances are it was one of those wranglers paid to extract the devices from the strange places they get left and return them to base for a more orderly re-deployment. But it also could have been someone trying to dump it in the river, or repurpose it as conceptual street art there amid the graffiti-covered pylons that hold up the tollway.

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