No matter how many times I hear them, I hurry out to stand in awe, gazing up at the sky in anticipation. I always hear them far before they appear as their amazing song is so distinctive and carries for miles. It seems on mornings like this, where everything is still dripping with last night’s rain, and the skies are starting to clear in patches, that there is a lot of activity – all kinds. The moment I opened our backdoor, a hummingbird darted across the fence to our fuchsias. A flicker sat high in our live oak, hammering away for his breakfast.
As I gazed skyward, waiting for their appearance, I could hear them like a schoolyard full of laughing children, the sound growing closer each second. Then, they appeared! There must have been close to 1,000 birds strung out in 3 long strands, heading north. I stood, craning my neck backward, squinting up at them, awestruck at the grace and sheer number of them, feeling my own instinctive connection to the earth, to my past, feeling so blessed that I have been given this gift on this day.