Four and Twenty Blackbirds Series
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When I was a child I had continually recurring dreams of flight with such detail that I could practically count the shingles on the roof of my childhood home. In my dreams I could soar, hover, levitate and generally rise above. Yes, I know there is considerable fodder there for psychoanalysis. Dig in.
Now, it seems that ever since moving to the country I seem to attract the attention of low-flying, theatrical birds. Not in a spooky, ominous Hitchcockian sort of way, but rather in a familial, how do you do, nice to see you again sort of way. Flocks and pairs, and single solitary aviators, they wheel and dance and turn circles overheard, seemingly for my amusement and their own. They fly so close that I can actually see their eyes and the individual feathers of their wings.
Everywhere I go, I am greeted by these familiar friends who just happen to have feathers. One day I will capture that with my camera, but for now it is enough to experience it and capture it as memory.
When I was a child I had continually recurring dreams of flight with such detail that I could practically count the shingles on the roof of my childhood home. In my dreams I could soar, hover, levitate and generally rise above. Yes, I know there is considerable fodder there for psychoanalysis. Dig in.
Now, it seems that ever since moving to the country I seem to attract the attention of low-flying, theatrical birds. Not in a spooky, ominous Hitchcockian sort of way, but rather in a familial, how do you do, nice to see you again sort of way. Flocks and pairs, and single solitary aviators, they wheel and dance and turn circles overheard, seemingly for my amusement and their own. They fly so close that I can actually see their eyes and the individual feathers of their wings.
Everywhere I go, I am greeted by these familiar friends who just happen to have feathers. One day I will capture that with my camera, but for now it is enough to experience it and capture it as memory.
