The Bird Convention

There was something up with the birds this morning. I was out walking, when a large group of ducks flew over headed east. I didn’t think much of it until another group flew over…and then another. And then other birds started flying by too, sparrows, herons, bluebirds…even a seagull. All of them headed toward the rising sun. I might not have thought much about it even then if they had been headed south, I mean it’s getting cold here, so warmer climates would make sense. But east? And none of them were in migration formation. It was chaotic randomness, like it was every bird for himself.

So, I concluded that there must be a bird convention in town that they were all headed to. I’m not sure what sorts of things a bird would learn at a convention…current bug population migratory patterns and what to eat and what to avoid, latest innovations and color patterns in nest building, what’s in and what’s out this year in feather fashion?! Whatever it is, hundreds of birds had dedicatingly gotten up early, braving the icy winds to attend. I swear I saw one duck flying lower than the others, flapping just a little slower with his eyes half closed. He must either have had a rough night or he’s not a morning bird, because he had a camel pack strapped to his back full of coffee, and he was sucking on that straw like his life depended on it.