Yesterday's gray skies and my grumpy mood did not do much for my awareness of moments of light.It took until late evening, when John and I took cups of tea downstairs and settled in front of the tv to watch a bit of the documentary Winged Migration.
If you aren't familiar with the bird's eye view and the amazing scenes in this film, you can get a taste of it at the Winged Migration website.
I'm amazed at the photography (How did they do that? How long do you think they waited for that scene?); I'm amazed at the abilities of birds to travel incredible distances; I'm amazed at the variety and beauty of the landscapes they fly over.
Where were these geese headed, flying over my house last Wednesday? Given the cornfields around here, they probably weren't going far -- but they could. And what a different perspective they have, flying at that height.
I'm reminded of the spring that our family drove north to Edmonton, right during spring migration. As we passed through the fields of Saskatchewan, there were two Canada geese in every puddle, and gaggles of geese in every pond.
I'm only a rudimentary birder, but I think we were seeing snow geese as well -- rivers and deltas of birds in flight, and whole convocations of birds on the ground. Amazing.
As we traveled, we were listening to A Circle is Cast, by the singing group Libana. This recording includes the song A River of Birds, so that now that song and the sight of birds in migration are irrevocably linked for me. (If you're interested in Libana's music, here's the link.)
My approach to contemplative photography --
Tell about it."
Mary Oliver in "Sometimes"