Yesterday, flocks and flocks of birds returned from yonder. They played in the trees—robins dancing with blackbirds, finch mingling with cardinals. It was a vibrant cacophony of feathers. I’ve seen it before and believed it to be an anomaly. A strange coincidence of unrelated members finding it a perfect day to spontaneously wing through the treetops together. Having witnessed this magical event annually for a few years, I was no closer to understanding the behavior, merely accepting it must be habitual.
After chatting it up with my friend Google, I discovered it isn’t rare at all. The Stanford educational department calls it “mixed species flocking.” It is believed to be a way to confuse predators and bring more “eyes” to a group flying north in spring. Another hypothesis has to do with increasing access to food. Whatever the reason, it is magnificent to see.
This year’s flocking event coincided with an online presentation, headlined by Thomas Hubl and Andrea Gibson, The Crisis of Us and Them. I recommend watching it. Andrea Gibson offered their poem “Maga Hat.”
if birds can do it
maybe
we can fly
and
if we do
maybe
we would forget hate
instead
a rare
and beautiful bird
was murdered
swarmed by hate
nex flew
inside and outside
no definitions
no rules for being
instead of learning
instead of flying free too
a murder
of crows
an unkindness
of ravens
took away
the beauty
of wings