How to Shake Up a Really Peaceful Morning
Uncle Andrew
I was sitting in the hot tub this morning listening to National Public Radio (yes, we have a hot tub and listen to NPR. Just FYI, for a goddamn hippie I have very little hair) when a massive flock of starlings, perhaps fifty birds in all, took to the air from the field behind our house. I watched them pass overhead in formation and head off to the East.
Just as the last of the birds disappeared behind the trees, there was a screech and a terrible, thumping crash.
I figured out momentarily that there must have been a traffic accident on the main thoroughfare that intersects our street, but the overall effect was really disturbing.
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November 29th, 2004 at 9:23 pm
That or all of the Starlings went through a 747 engine intake. Screech and crash of the turbine blades making Starling pulp. Red mist out the back. Bad luck if you have a seat behind the engines.
November 30th, 2004 at 1:25 am
I think having a seat behind a 747 engine is generally considered bad. In fact, relative to a 747 engines about the only thing I can think of that would be worse is having a seat at its front. Of course this is moving the conversation away from the prescient flocking nature of starlings and hairless hippies in hot tubs. So, where was I going, I do not know?
Anyway, at the point where you described the screeching and the crash in your post, what flashed through my mind was of you looking up from your soak and seeing a falcon splattered across the already distressed glass of you arbor. I guess I just got caught up in your haiku like use of imagery.
November 30th, 2004 at 1:44 am
Wrinkles forming on toes,
Starlings rise from frozen mist:
That will leave a mark.
November 30th, 2004 at 8:19 am
Though not strictly in haiku format (too many syllables in the first line), I LOVE IT! Your skills are wasted on Customer Support, Joe. I’d nominate you for Haiku Laureate in a heartbeat.
November 30th, 2004 at 4:40 pm
Joe rules! My life is so much fun because of that man.
I think a small change would give Joe’s poem proper haiku format:
Wrinkles form on toes,
Starlings rise from frozen mist:
That will leave a mark.