for the birds...

i was always amazed, as a child, with the great annual migrations of birds. they’d fly south for the winter then north again when their homes began to thaw. i was amazed because it was such a long journey -- surely their little wings would give out somewhere around arkansas and they’d tumble out of the sky. and when i’d find a little bird on the ground, a little mushed and half eaten, i’d stop for a moment in wonder and lament that the little thing just didn’t have the strength.

and when i became an adult i knew how he felt.

it didn’t occur to me that they would rest. with my childish understanding i thought they’d just fly relentlessly from point a to b. then one day i saw a large group gabbing away in a clump of trees by my house. occasionally a smaller group would break off and fly to the next clump, just a little bit farther north, until the entire flock was resting on that clump, and it struck me that they were patient little creatures. they knew they could get there, a little at a time.