Inland, Dreaming of Waves

Traffic

Did half an hour of birding this morning at Stearn's Lake. There was a swallows convention--cliff, tree, and violet-green--and they were flying over the lake like the space vehicles in Fifth Element. Remember that scene when Bruce Willis is flying Milla J around in his cab? Or the scene in Minority Report when Cruise is trying to escape from the police? Or some of the traffic scenes in the new Star Wars?

I kept waiting for a crash, but there was none. Just a cormorant getting the hell out. It must have been like the death of a thousand whooshes.

As a spectacle, it was stunning. I tried to follow one swallow for a while and eventually lost track of it.

I find it hard to believe there are that many insects over Stearn's Lake. There must have been 500 swallows there. They were flying that way for the sheer joy of it.

Update:
As I was riding the AB bus from Boulder to Broomfield Wednesday night, I remembered the swallows. The bus pulled off the highway toward 287, and a sedan kept going past us. I was reminded of Jeanette Winterson's concept that all the lives we might have had, all the paths we might have chosen, exist somewhere and can be accessed. That car reminded me of some other choice I might have made, and so did the swallows, winging around and past each other over the choppy surface of Stearns Lake.

So that means that my life as a famous writer is out there somewhere, and I just have to find my way to it.

posted by Price of Silence @ 12:06 PM