It seems the sky has had a lot of my focus this week. I wish I could say I saw the annular eclipse on Saturday but we were 100% cloud-covered and outside the path. I hope someone who did see it will fill me in! In the meantime, the moon and Venus were putting on quite a show earlier this week. I’m so glad to have Venus back in the morning sky, I miss her when she swings around to the evening.
The rest of this week the story has been the wind. The blessing of the wind is all the birds we see in migration. If the winds didn’t come through here, neither would the birds! That’s why they call it a “flyway”. (Some people call us a flyover state and they mean it in less than a kind way, but they just have no idea what they are missing!)
When the winds come I find it harder to find those intimate moments. Birds don’t come close like they do when it’s still. The migrating birds may briefly stop, but mostly they just keep flying and sometimes we never see them. It feels unsettled and often I feel unsettled. Wind, water and the rising sun can produce it’s own kind of beauty though, if I allow myself to soften, sink down to the ground and pay attention.
The birds have been coming though, the largest flock passing through under some cloudy skies on a day I didn’t expect it given the 20 mph winds were coming from the south. I figured no birds would be traveling into that wind. I was wrong.
They were out there, on the water which had whitecaps from the waves. Thousands of Franklin’s gulls - and I didn’t see them at all until they took off! It’s amazing to think thousands of birds could be hiding in plain sight, but I’m glad I looked up when I did- and then walked as fast as my legs could carry me to the other end of the lake, praying the whole time they wouldn’t leave until I got there.
There is something about a huge flock of birds, watching them spin and spiral and move both individually and as one. The implicit communication, the energetic sense of it. I’m not sure my photos or even videos ever do it justice. It’s like I can feel it in my body, the rhythm with which they move. The spiral energy feels soothing to my spirit, like all is right with the world for at least that moment.
Thankfully there are still days too. Those in between days when the wind dies down, the cold air settles in and the bird stop just a little longer for a rest. On those days, sometimes, if I’m very lucky, they will come have a chat with me a bit closer. These are my favorite kind of mornings. These are the mornings that make me sing the praises of October (and sometimes November!) all year long.
I’m not the only one interested in who is migrating through the lake. Our resident eagle pair keeps tabs on the goings-on as well. They are more interested in some of the tasty ducks that rest here on their way or in the ospreys from whom they will sometimes steal fish. Coots especially seem to be eagle favorites. Poor little cooties!
Migration brings things I look forward to every year, like the Franklin’s gulls and hopefully (fingers crossed!!) shorebirds. It also always seems to bring delightful surprises I don’t see coming. For instance, this interaction between a flicker, a bluejay and a kestrel!
This weekend the cold winds are blowing hard and the clouds have settled in. Who knows what else they might bring? Who knows what might appear after the winds settle and the birds stop to rest? Soon we will see!
The Blue Jay's feathers are so gorgeous! The close up captures of the water are great!
Beautiful as always, Karen! Thank you for sharing what you know about birds, and thank you for words that inspire as much as your photos & videos do.