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I watched as they fluttered to the tree. They gathered there together only to then flutter down, disappearing in the tall grass. Then they would reappear, flutter again up to the tree. They gathered here and there and I wondered what they're purpose was, what they were doing. It seemed they were waiting together, fluttering back and forth.
Then it came to me with the distant flash of lightning. It was a dance.
I watched as they fluttered around each other, twirling and swooping, jumping and landing. It was beautiful. Their wings, a mixture of black and gray, artistically moving together and twirling around one another, then disappearing once more in the tall grass.
I watched them dance as the clouds rolled in. I watched them flutter to the tree and back to the grass until the thunder broke across the sky and the rain began to fall. Then their dance became something more. They fluffed their feathers and sat in the tree, gathering together in silence. Then I knew this is what they had been waiting for.
Dani
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THEY WAITED
They waited for daybreak
To start a long search
Flying and hunting
They're left in a lurch
They waited for family
Cousins, uncles and aunts
A huge flocked colony
Trying to fill the same pants
They waited for twilight
To end the long day
Exhausted from flying
They are now home to stay
I waited for the nusiances
To land up high in my tree
A nightly ritual of off-tune songs
And a rain of poop I really don't like to see
They waited for something
'Cause all was too still
Then boom - boom - boom
My noisemaker fit the bill
The ravens gathered in the ancient Meeting Tree. It was time. The old battlefield would be soaked with blood before the day was out. The tidings had been borne on the wind, and whispered by the wind.
The ravens heard and came on the wind. The tree darkened under their wings, and still they came. Soon the tree disappeared, obscured by the hundreds of of ravens perched in its branches. And still they came.
She knew what it meant. The ravens never gathered like this unless it was for battle. And her father and brothers would fight in that battle, and die, unless she could stop it.
Wow, what a great photo--and so perfect for this morning in California with our heavy marine layer.... Brings back memories of a walk in a bird sanctuary watching and hearing hundreds of meadowlarks and red-winged blackbirds. It was the last time I spent time together with my friends, Shawn & Rick; they divorced a year later. Makes me mindful that we must always be in the moment, appreciating the precious present.
The birds know...they always know. The last time I saw them gather like this was in the late afternoon of the 10th...5 years ago today. The tree is one of the few things taller than 4 or 5 feet that remained on that God Forsaken prairie after I emerged from the cellar.
I have rebuilt my life since then, but the gathering makes me sick to the bone. Is this going to be another day like that June when I lost everything that had any meaning in my life? Please God, let this storm pass...let the birds be wrong this time.
Dan
They waited for the storm to pass before starting off on their annual flight to warmer climes. Most of them wouldn't make it; the elderly, the very young, were ill-equipped for the dangers of the long journey.
Food was a constant worry in winter. The ground, frozen solid, would not offer up many tasty morsels, and the plant life, now withered and brown, wasn't much better.
They relied heavily on birdfeeders - but then they had to watch out for human and four-legged dangers. Squirrels, also hungry, would not hesitate to storm a feeder, just to get a taste of the crunchy feed within.
Lucky for them, they were only a few days away from their destination. There water would be plentiful and flowing freely. The sun warmed the earth, making it easy to pluck fat, juicy worms from the soil. Plants in bud meant that the birds would have many options for lunch each day.
Ahh, soon, they'd be sittin' pretty.
The Gathering birds
They waited for their breakfast
In wet soil below
(I'm on a haiku kick)
I watched as they fluttered to the tree. They gathered there together only to then flutter down, disappearing in the tall grass. Then they would reappear, flutter again up to the tree. They gathered here and there and I wondered what they're purpose was, what they were doing. It seemed they were waiting together, fluttering back and forth.
Then it came to me with the distant flash of lightning. It was a dance.
I watched as they fluttered around each other, twirling and swooping, jumping and landing. It was beautiful. Their wings, a mixture of black and gray, artistically moving together and twirling around one another, then disappearing once more in the tall grass.
I watched them dance as the clouds rolled in. I watched them flutter to the tree and back to the grass until the thunder broke across the sky and the rain began to fall. Then their dance became something more. They fluffed their feathers and sat in the tree, gathering together in silence. Then I knew this is what they had been waiting for.
They waited for me to pass under the branches, like I always did at the same time each morning. But today I came prepared.
Two days of newspapers tapped together in a thick shield. I propped it over my head and hurried under the over hanging branches. Oddly enough, there was no sound, no movement from above.
I then proceededto make the biggest mistake in the history of school picture days.
I stopped, lowered the paper and looked up.
And found out that those birds are damn smart.
And they ave really great aim.
I.N.Kwell! Genius! Laughter echoes here, I think!
They waited to see the light come on inside the house.
They waited to hear the door crackle open in the garage.
They waited to feel the tree tremble with his touch.
They waited to taste the seed from the feeder.
They waited, it seemed, for days on end.
They wait no longer, for the light came on and the little old man peeked at them out the window.
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