I heard the sound of birds this morning, followed by a squawk of the same species, but different voice. One of my hopes for living out here is to come away with a more intimate knowledge of nature. Right now, they’re birds. I have yet to learn their names.
Two years in a row, we saw when they left. The first year was the last week in October, this past year, the first day of November. Come 9 o’clock in the morning each time, at the tail end of breakfast, the kids and I heard a loud ruckus right outside the dining room window. The backyard trees exploded with black birds.
There are natural phenomenons so magnificent, that the primal response for me is to laugh. It happened last summer at the solar eclipse, as soon as the darkness covered the sun. I laughed out tears then laughed them away. In those ninety-so seconds of indescribable light, I nearly lost consciousness of everyone around me.
The crickets started chirping in afternoon heat, a sound you never hear in the summer til evening! A rooster crowed from the next farm over, doing what the light had told him to do. I heard the laughter of one of my sons, stretching out his arms like he was spreading his wings, running gracefully round and around in the yard.
The kids and I ran outside to see them. For the next half hour, we followed as they flocked from one set of trees to the next. We ran through the athletic field and stood at the fence, for they had flown across the street in to the neighbor’s back yard. The last time we saw them, they were flying away, waving again for the ones who missed them.