to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbably beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.”
It was Mabon
eve, and Crow* and I were doing our usual Friday drive to catch a sunset. We use this time to catch up after a busy week, to talk through anything that needs to be talked through, but mostly, we sit in silence sipping our take out caffeine – steeped tea for him, two milk, two sugar, and coffee for me, double double. Sometimes, there’s music or As It Happens on the CBC. Mostly, we are companionably, deeply silent, like only old lovers can be, taking in the beauty of the green or gold earth, and the lavender and magenta sky. It’s a long exhalation.
He saw it first, and exclaimed in wonder. We pulled over, and I got out to film it for you, because I knew you’d love it, too.
I have seen maybe three murmurations in my whole life, and it always feels personal, always feels like a gift. I’m not unused to seeing Starlings, but I usually see them earth bound, scavenging for grub in little flocks on grassy knolls.
Like this one:
They delight me when I see them this way, too, but murmurations feel special, spectral, almost supernatural, though I know that’s ridiculous. Starlings just *do this*. It has nothing to do with me or my eyes on their dance. But I’m human, and humans like to assign meaning to random things, so I do, gratefully. I assign it the label ‘gift’ and I receive it as such and my life is richer for it.
I hope yours is richer for my having captured it for you.
*Crow is my ex husband, and also my best friend.
Today’s Nudge: Post about something that’s sacred to you.
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