blackbird

from somewhere on flickr

Large flocks of blackbirds when I was out in the woods putting up No Hunting signs last week. I couldn't see them, but could hear them. This entry first appeared on this blog on 11/6/09.

Cloudy. At this time of year you see large flocks of blackbirds gathering (or starlings or grackles), hundreds of them. The size of the flocks is a little unsettling, like nature is out of balance. I have seen these flocks descend on the trees in the back woods. It is almost like a plague of locusts. I was reading about them in my Peterson's Field Guide, and it said, "Their song sounds like the creak of a rusty door hinge, penetrating."
The other day I went into a convenience store in Brandon, and there was a large flock screeching from the trees across the road. When I came out, one of the blackbirds was in the parking lot picking at crumbs of bread. Its feathery coat was a lustrous jet black from its beak to its tail. It glistened in the sun as it moved about. It was so sleek and aerodynamic. It was beautiful.
This is a lesson I keep have to relearn. Just because something is common doesn't mean it isn't beautiful. Ragweed, blackbirds, snowflakes can, at once, be ordinary...and miraculous. Many years ago I found a young starling which had dental floss hopelessly wrapped around and cutting into its leg. I ended up taking it to the Rutland Veterinary Clinic. My neighbor, Louella Day, a native Vermonter, was on duty. She took a look at it and said, "Well, it's just a starling, but let's see if we can take care of it." And she did. She had the right idea.

You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
Paul McCartney