Place Entry 2

As I sit in my chair beside the pond, I begin observing a female cardinal foraging in the retreating snow to my right with seven or so house sparrows behind her even closer to the road. I believe they're house sparrows because of their overall color and disposition, but I can't be entirely certain. Twice in the past couple weeks I've observed at least one white-throated sparrow on campus. In the time it takes me to squint and wish I had brought my binoculars, a white-throated sparrow actually does land next to the cardinal, now close to a large rock, and joins it in it's search for food. Then another. I clearly make out the black stripes along their skull and the even clearer distinct white throat that distinguish their race.

In the background, there is the song of more house sparrows emanating from somewhere behind me towards the Mellon Building. There is also a black individual of the gray squirrel species, which before arriving in Pittsburgh I had only observed in Ottawa, rummaging through the small section of woods immediately behind me and towards my right. A morning dove, previously concealed in the boughs of a tree despite its winter bareness, alights across the field, only to veer around and join the party of foragers on the grounds close to me.

I am wondering what companionship, or perhaps camaraderie, these birds might feel for each other, when a flash of familiar color catches my eye from beneath the ice in front of me. Half the pond remained frozen despite the increased warmth of last week, and that half is covered in some snow. The other half has refrozen and the ice looks different, clear and veiny. Beneath that second half, close to the fountain, there is orange beneath the ice. I forget the birds and focus on the orange fish-shaped wedge vaguely visible in front of me, and wonder why I hadn't noticed it before. There are three other oranges slightly closer to the fountain. As I puzzle over them, wondering if they were perhaps frozen solid under the ice, the single wedge lunges forward a half foot or so, undoubtedly by its own industry.

They live! I had been convinced the fishes were dead, but here there was irrefutable proof at least some members of their race soldiered on beneath their frozen world. I stare at all four, awaiting the next outburst of activity, but they are still. I resolve to survey the perimeter of the pond as I had done before and see if the bodies I had observed were still there. In the section closest to the road, there are ten corpses close to the surface. All the individuals I see are of a mix of orange and gray complexion, curious considering that the four I had seen beneath the ice just moments before all seemed starkly orange, although perhaps I wasn't able to see them clearly beneath the ice. As I swoop around and check the rest of the perimeter I count nine more corpses before reaching my chair again. I sit to ponder why some fish have died while others seem perfectly healthy, and notice that the four orange wedges from before are gone.