There is a bird outback, species uncertain, pecking at seeds that have fallen to the ground.
Where will that bird sleep tonight? A nest, of course. Birds make nests, but rarely do we see them.
That old Dylan sung image, more poetic than physically accurate, comes to mind, about how far the bird flies before it sleeps in the sand.
Do birds sleep in the sand?
How far does a bird fly on any day? How long will they live?
Most birds can live three to ten years, I’ve read, depending on all those factors one can imagine — weather, predation, disease.
So where is that bird I saw now? Will I see them again? Will I know it’s him or her. Birds, after all, can rarely be told apart. I’ll put out some seed. Seems birds eat a great deal. But then, don’t we all -all us living creatures.
They say crows can recognize a person’s face long after they see it. We are often told about the intelligence or bird species. Hence, the derogation “bird brain” might be misplaced. The species Aves might be more perceptive in many respects than the speciies Memmalia. But then, I’m not a zoologist.
Will the crows I know and remember my face? I’ve let peanuts out for them. They should be grateful. To hope so is more poetic than zoological.
I could go on about birds. Continue my flight.
But I won’t.
Except to say — how blessed it would be to be able to fly.
But how blessed to know we are likely to live more than ten years.
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