Convergence
Something wonderful and/or devious is afoot. Across the street from where I’m sitting, a veritable congress* of birds has gathered. I don’t speak squawk, but they’re clearly discussing plans of great import. Inter-flock politics? Dive-bombing runs? My car fears for its immaculately-maintained finish.
One entire intersection’s worth of cables and power lines is covered entirely with little black blobs separated by regular six-inch intervals, strung out like, um, birds on a wire. The nearby trees are fully occupied as well; there must be five or six hundred birds out there.
As for species, they’re…black. With feathers. I’m not an ornithologist. There are two kinds of birds that I can see: most are medium-sized and black, but about a quarter are smaller and grayer. Perhaps they’re male and female of the same species. Yeah, that makes sense.
Self, what’s the point of having a camcorder if you never bring it anywhere?
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* I think the most common plural for birds of indeterminate species is congregation, but according to Merriam-Webster, my use of veritable means I’m speaking** metaphorically, so nyah.
** I find myself reluctant to change this to “writing” or “typing,” even though that’s what I’m doing. All language is speech on some level, I think, even when rendered in ink/electrons.
Tags: miscellany
November 1st, 2006 at 10:53 am
You are certain that they’re not owls, correct? Perhaps carrying letters? Must be a Houston thing… My parents’ new house has a buzzard circling it. (And dead fish in the back yard from flooding.)