I watched some birds today.
Clusters of black against the grey-blue sky.
There were two flocks, relatively far apart: one in a line, the others in a messy V.
Gliding, chasing, flapping they raced and enjoyed the air
Then I saw three break away from the V, flapping as hard as they could that they might join the others in a line.
The wind was blowing blowing blowing and they were flapping flapping flapping, stuck in a current.
I watched these three birds flap their birdie behinds off.
Yet they were stuck in the in between.
I kept waiting for them to turn back to their old flock.
I watched thinking they would slow down to realize their old flock was still closer then the other birds.
But they didn't.
The three little birds flap flap flapped.
They didn't look back, losing their aerodynamics.
They just kept fighting.
I watched them fly for a long while before they finally made it to the new flock.
I found a strange connection to the birds flying high.