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Plan to Identify Bird Species by Their Window-Impact Sounds

Wann wird es endlich wieder so, wie es nie war

The plan to identify bird species by their window-impact sounds is a childhood scheme built around an astonishing claim: the narrator’s second-oldest brother says he recognized a blackbird from the sound of its collision with a window, without even turning to look. The narrator’s eldest brother recasts that claim as the basis for a television act, with the narrator assigned to train the would-be expert. Their elaborate preparation, improvised from stolen household supplies, ends in a burst sockful of peas and the narrator’s anxious calculation of who would be held responsible if the joke went further.

The Claim and the Television Ambition

The idea begins in the second-oldest brother’s dim, aquarium-lit bedroom, a space that seems to the narrator like another world. The fish tanks cast green light across the room; fish appear to swim freely through the air, while the bed seems to rest at the bottom of a pond. In this slow, enclosed setting, the brothers draw the narrator into a plan that makes the bedroom their conspiratorial headquarters.

The second-oldest brother tells them that when a blackbird struck the window, he knew its species before turning around. The claim is not presented as a result of a test; it is a boast about a perception he says he already possesses. The narrator does not understand why it matters, and his confusion irritates his brother. The eldest brother supplies the interpretation: identifying birds by their impact sounds is, in his view, a talent that could make them rich.

The proposed route to wealth is television. Different birds would be driven toward a large window while the second-oldest brother, blindfolded inside, guessed their species from the sound of each impact. The eldest brother assigns the narrator the role of trainer, while the second-oldest brother is cast as the performer. The plan converts one claimed moment of recognition into a public spectacle, although the brothers have not yet demonstrated that the skill can be repeated or tested.

A Homemade Training Apparatus

Rather than begin with live birds, the brothers devise a rehearsal using socks as substitutes. The narrator is to throw them from outside against the window; blindfolded on a chair indoors, the second-oldest brother will identify the supposed bird from the noise. Each participant receives a task, and the three set about gathering materials through the house like thieves, taking socks from cupboards and pasta and other filling from the pantry.

After an hour, five sock decoys lie on the eldest brother’s bed. The lightest is a sock belonging to the narrator’s mother, stuffed with hair pulled from the Family dog’s brush and assigned to represent a wren. At the other extreme, the father’s never-worn hiking sock is packed full of bird sand to stand for a stork. These carefully chosen weights give the exercise a mock system: the brothers are not merely throwing whatever comes to hand, but arranging their makeshift birds along a scale from light to heavy.

The rehearsal immediately exposes the unruliness of their materials. The narrator tosses a pea-filled buzzard into the air inside the room, and the sock bursts. Peas rain down from the ceiling. The two brothers collapse onto the bed, wheezing with laughter and shouting into the bedding. The first test has produced no bird identification at all; instead, its most memorable result is a broken prop and an eruption of shared amusement.

Abandonment and the Narrator’s Misgivings

The narrator is relieved when the plan is abandoned. His relief comes not simply from the failure of the pea-filled sock, but from a familiar apprehension: in experiments of this sort, he is usually the one held responsible at the end. He admits that he rarely anticipates this outcome in time, yet on this occasion he has serious doubts before the scheme can progress from tossing a soft prop indoors to throwing one at an actual pane.

The heaviest decoy makes that danger concrete. The narrator imagines himself hurling the sand-filled stork sock through the window, his brothers somehow disappearing from the scene, and himself left looking like a fool. The imagined question about why anyone would throw a sand-filled sock through glass has, he recognizes, no good answer. The prospect of blame—not a considered test of whether impact sounds can distinguish species—becomes the practical limit of the brothers’ ambition.

Comic Form and Narrative Significance

The episode’s comedy comes from the gap between the grandness of the brothers’ pitch and the materials of their experiment. They envision television fame and riches, then build their apparatus from stolen socks, pantry supplies, dog hair, and bird sand. Their assignments give the scheme the appearance of organized research, but its first trial ends with peas scattered from the ceiling and the brothers unable to contain their laughter.

The narrator’s role also shifts the scene’s emphasis. He begins as a puzzled younger participant, is recruited as trainer, and ends as the one imagining the consequences of the plan’s most hazardous prop. His brothers’ laughter and his own unease coexist: the failed rehearsal is both a shared joke and a warning about the familiar pattern in which he expects to be blamed. The proposed bird-identification act never reaches the window. What remains is the contrast between a boast treated as a path to fame and the ordinary household disorder that brings the fantasy to a stop.