They are ever-present.
seeming not to care what hour it is, or who might
bear witness to their frolicking, squawking, pecking, or frenetic flights
not one
nor two
but a whole host of them – five at a time, even
on trunks, limbs, treetops
in low arcing acrobatics
leaving the edges of my hair
tangled in a whoosh of air,
leaving my heart dancing,
leaving me wondering if I was in
their consciousness as they swooped within
inches
of my head
It is exceedingly loud!
their bright voices equally matched by the flash
of red atop their knockin’ noggins
their raucousness, in turn, matched by a small flock
of mockingbirds
a couple crows
a solitary raven
and those melodic songbirds of many sizes, colors,
shapes
species extravaganza
I am paying attention.
I am enjoying this experience.
I’m feeling something, even if I don’t know what to call it.
I wish I could trace their dashing bodies with contrails of
vividly colored paint.
streamers through the
air
curved, convex and concave
faster than eyes can really follow
reminding me of this web, this net, this nature, this
embrace in which we all take part
I am grateful for – and to – these winged beings.
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2015 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
