In the face of brutal, early March in Kansas, 50 MPH+ wind gusts, I saw a starling land on a branch at the very top of an old oak tree. The north wind tossed the limbs and the entire top of the tree, violently side to side.
The bird, a starling, deftly landed on the swaying branch, which was an impressive feat in itself. The way it hung on, though, surrounded by chaos, was equally spectacular in the face of the relentless wind.
The bird sat tight, cool as a cucumber, despite the raging tempest of the skies. Soon, another starling lands. Then another. Within a minute, there are twenty birds in the tree. Not quite a murmuration (Isn’t “murmuration” an awesome word?). There are no group aerial acrobatics or coordinated ballets in the sky for this flock. It’s all about safety, respite, and survival in the face of these bitter, north wind attacks.
But for now, the tree branches don’t seem to move as much. More birds land to settle the branches. More birds land to find a brief sanctuary from the elements.
The birds anchor the tree.
The tree anchors the birds.
Nature cooperates.
So why can’t we?
