22 November 2002

Well, after ranting about how I needed to make sure I got in my exercise, I skipped it yesterday. I'd like to say it was because it was raining, but the truth is that I didn't even go look. I'd like to say it was because I was on a roll with some writing and didn't want to interrupt it, but I was pretty much struggling for every word yesterday.

Nope, the plain truth is that we had a mandatory training session at work on company policy on a whole lot of things, and having had my afternoon interrupted for an hour by that, I didn't feel like trying to get out and walk.

I did, however, spend most of my evening crocheting. I even finished the project I started - a teddy bear that turned out to be very cute, actually. (I posted a picture on my blog if you're curious.)

I was sitting on the edge of the bed this morning, getting dressed, when suddenly I heard the most peculiar noise.

It was a little like rain, and a little like squeaky wagon wheels. Or maybe it sounded like a lot of rain was turning a squeaky windcatcher arhythmically - but we don't have a windcatcher, much less one that squeaks, and all our neighbors' houses are far enough away that I shouldn't have heard it so clearly.

I looked up at Matt. "Is it raining? Do you hear that?"

Matt went to the window and peeked between the blinds. "It's birds," he said in astonishment.

I followed him to the window. Sure enough: hundreds, if not thousands, of birds were flying overhead, landing in the tall trees that surround (but are not in) our neighborhood. I was hearing the combination of flapping wings and chirping.

I've seen flocking birds before, of course - we used to watch for them when I was a kid, driving south to visit my mom's family for Thanksgiving. But I don't know that I've ever seen such a large flock so close before. I watched in awe for a minute.

"You're going the wrong way, guys," I said as the flock began to morph itself to the next neighborhood. "South is that way."

I went back to getting dressed, and two minutes later I looked up to sudden silence. I went to look out the window, and sure enough, the flock had moved on.

--Liz