29 January 2013

Not Your Typical Clouds

This is a view we had from our dining room table one morning a couple of weeks ago.  And these were only a small fraction of the cloud that came rushing, seemingly straight toward our window.

So it came as no surprise to me later in the day, or some un-particular afternoon over the next few days, to hear quite the racket of noise when I was out working in the garden.  (Have I ever done that in January before?  I can't think of a time.)  I labored on, enjoying the racket, actually, but determining to stay focused upon my task.  Which didn't work very well.  (The staying focused part.  I actually got things done in the garden.)

Because the noise was too exciting, too inviting.  So I tramped off in my rubber boots that I used while fishing in Alaska (see the label on the sidebar called "Fishing"), through the freshly rained-upon grass of the orchard, then the woods.  The racket got louder as I tramped.

I walked with a sparkle of anticipation in my eyes.  If I could just get there without scaring them first.  Because I wanted to startle them once I got there.  Doesn't that sound mean?

But I did it anyway.  I got there, let them settle (because I did startle them on accident), and clapped my hands.  I learned how to clap with great volume in piano performance class.  I loved the cloud of starlings that instantly took flight, none of whom tried to fly quietly away.

They settled some distance from me, and I wandered back to my garden and muddiness.  They settled in again, too.

And do you know?  They were right there in my front yard the next morning, and I got to take their photo in flight when I opened the door to get a closer look at them.  Can you count the number of starlings in this one little frame?  They were thick, and they were everywhere.

Others around here were complaining of the abundance of starlings this winter.  They didn't know what caused it.  And they certainly didn't want them at their bird feeders.  But the starlings gave me a bit of delight those few days that they flocked near my home, and I'm grateful God made them for me to enjoy.


Greetings, fellow climbers! Leave your marks on the steps--I'll be delighted to hear from you.