Birds | fleeting thought

a short break

Photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash

When we first saw the flock, we were surrounded, caught in a spectacle of stimuli. Brilliant colors, dancing lights, beautiful cacophonies, wafting ambrosia. Those birds surrounded us, each one a different shape, an altered species, a new wonder. I tried to follow a single bird, but my efforts were futile: Transformation is natural to their existence. Imagine it: an undulating mass, a changing mob, all those beasts partaking in wonderful collective transmogrification.

For birds know themselves not the be at the centre of anything, but at the margins of everything — the end of the map. And it is on the end of things, when one horizon sweeps another, that we live.

Photo by Tabea Schimpf on Unsplash