STARLINGS...

This poem was written by one of my favorites, Mary Oliver.  I am also sharing photos I took of Starlings.  No feats and acrobatics here but fascinating none the less.  

I enjoy studying them from where I sit with my cup of tea, and I am up and down taking photos of their antics.  There's a lot of interaction, and competing for the suet gets a bit heated at times.  Another entertaining bird.  

I know they are not everyone's cup of tea but I like them, and those black feathers with the gold flecks (“with stars in their black feathers”, as Mary so beautifully describes them) are very striking, in the sun especially.  There was not much sun shining on them this day, but they still stand out.  Just like the crows, they are welcome at our feeders.  

Starlings in Winter, from "Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays"

~Mary Oliver~

Chunky and noisy,

but with stars in their black feathers,

they spring from the telephone wire

and instantly

they are acrobats

in the freezing wind.

And now, in the theater of air,

they swing over buildings,

dipping and rising;

they float like one stippled star

that opens,

becomes for a moment fragmented,

then closes again;

and you watch

and you try

but you simply can't imagine

how they do it

with no articulated instruction, no pause,

only the silent confirmation

that they are this notable thing,

this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin

over and over again,

full of gorgeous life.

Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,

even in the leafless winter,

even in the ashy city.

I am thinking now

of grief, and of getting past it;

I feel my boots

trying to leave the ground,

I feel my heart

pumping hard. I want

to think again of dangerous and noble things.

I want to be light and frolicsome.

I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,

as though I had wings.

Thanks for visiting and enjoy your day.  I will be back on Monday.