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They came in the gloaming over the stone wall above the dark line of distant trees. It was the flight of a conductor's hand continuous and steady, with a slight upsweep. In the overlap the shape grew bolder, as starlings flew wing to wing, side to side, and then over and up, like a waterspout drawing from another forming cloud, in a symphony of shapes, swooping and swinging until dropping from view as a settling multitude somewhere in the trees.
In the quieting din, the sky gathered its darkness.
We stood and stared.
Later we would say, remember those birds?

5 comments add one below

  • avatar

    T. Willemann over 7 years ago

    Wonderful pictures. Loved it!

  • avatar

    D.M. over 7 years ago

    Thank you, Thomas.

  • avatar

    D.M. over 7 years ago

    I haven't heard of Tarjei Vesaas, and so spent the morning trying to find his writing on line. I read a wonderful poem in translation about rowing. I am going to try to order a book through Amazon. Thank you, Drew, for such a compliment, but also for introducing me to some one new.

  • avatar

    D.M. over 7 years ago

    I appreciate that. Thanks again!

  • avatar

    Head Over Writing about 7 years ago

    Masterful. Can picture it so clearly.

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