A Poet's Journal: October 14th, 2013
A flock of pigeons flew over today and I watched with great interest. For it is a rare sight to see such a large grouping of birds and true as it is that the cranes and egrets can grow abundant, they are rather spread out over the sky, whereas the pigeons remain close together, in no certain form but what the wind or fancy may push them towards, which is why it is all the more impressive to witness. From a distance they are a nondescript mass, now reflecting, now contrasting the light in the sky, until literally, they turn on the wing and become invisible. Yet they are not fleeting, for the same flock may circle above the hills or across the ridge for hours, afraid to land because of the sound of the hunter's gun, though it is only to their own detriment that they amuse us, such that it is the same in one's heart to keep abreast of the struggle, not to brave the truth, but to lend ourselves to another's excitement.
Post a Comment