This afternoon, not long before the sun went down, a flock of ibis flew over the house, low, maybe 50 of them and even though their wings could not possibly be in absolute unison, it sure sounded so.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
I had just sunk my axe lightly into the center of the chopping block and was bent over filling the crook of my right arm with neat, fresh cut pieces of oak. Good night for a fire. Solid chill but not cold on this oak hammock covered dune near the Matanzas River marsh.
That marsh is where the birds have been at work all day, or so I say. Seems they all fly southwest towards the marsh just about the time I go to work, about 7:30am. Then the flocks of ibis and egrets and several solitary great blue herons will fly in the opposite direction, northeast, just about the time I return home in the afternoon, about 5:30pm. I figure they too are returning home from the day’s duties.
(February 5, 2003)