Flight

I am noticing animals in flight; either I am more appreciative or they are getting better at it.

For instance:

Interracial gull courtship with complex displacement roll and rolling scissors.

A gull turns on a wing tip, is hurled fast sideways, heli-tacks.

Two gulls set up a kind of standing lateral double helix, heads to wind.

A crow lands backwards onto phone wires, on the stall.

Three hoverflies are stacked up in the garden, 10 mil between them, all in perfect formation and geostationary with reference to a nodding buddleia flower.

Swallows weave the infinity dance over the lawn, crescent scraps of blue-black silk. Others hang in the breeze above the house, in tight formation but rarely still. Looping round each other in all planes, effortlessly accelerating/decelerating, apparently without moving their wings, all orbiting the same point in space.

A pair of white butterflies captured in flight: hyperbolic paraboloid.

In glittering waters, a pair of gannets bank and spear the water, stagger, bank and spear.

As I walked around the lakes the sun was low and red. Circling gulls were actually underlit by the sun.

Flight and waves, a recurring motif in my life. And gulls, gulls, gulls.

I wake to the sound of gulls.

Driving past a wheeling flock of autumn corvids, I felt for a few moments that I was simultaneously and effortlessly tracking all of them.

Proprioception, gone all-city.

I had to fight down a rising tide of epic.

Death by a million pinpricks of beauty.

And it’s the ordinary that deserves a second look.

Sepia leaf shadows, a wall projection by the morning sun.

Amish TV.

Even the slight flaw in the window glass is something to pause on.

The instant nostalgia as each moment flees to the past.

Cloud shadows on the ground hurry, flood away to a destination point.

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