The wind courses over Morro Bay, striking hard as it pushes through shoreline grasses. The sparrows, weighing less than two ounces, hang onto whipping branches, riding the storm. These observations will not add to the body of knowledge defining the species.
Yet paying attention to small things counts.
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Two years ago I moved to the Central Coast of California and the top of my head was blown off revealing an airy world with uncountable creatures in the trees, displaying fascinating behaviors and graceful forms. I’d known they were there in an abstract way, but the signal to noise ratio has shifted and the other world has snapped into focus. Everywhere there are stories being played out, some in silence and others with blaring vocals. A murder of crows caws hysterically from a grove of eucalyptus trees; there’s a bald eagle resting in the branches. A pair of Great Horned Owls nestle in predator harmony, grooming each other like wild kittens.
This is probably a disappearing world, one that begs awe-ful documentation.
“The painter constructs, the photographer discloses.”
Susan Sontag, On Photography
Everyone likes birds. What wild creature is more accessible to our eyes and ears, as close to us and everyone in the world, as universal as a bird?
David Attenborough
I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.
Emily Dickinson
