flight patterns

In the morning hours, when dawn is breaking and I’m making the drive toward clocking in at my desk job, I tend to notice the little things with startling clarity. Today it was flight patterns. Not the Fedex routes that run over my roof night in, night out. So routine that I barely notice them unless someone’s flying particularly low and loud. No, not those. Instead, I was distracted by birds. And their decided break from any kind of normalcy.

There were three groups of them, that much you could discern, but something seemed awry. Moving outward, then shifting direction without their usual innate communication, some kept going their own way. Groups mixed together. Pretty soon they were flying of their own free will in a swirling, cloudy mess that resembled the sky around them. A drizzling and dizzying sight that lasted for minutes before they finally seemed to make their way back to their respective groups and peel off.

I could relate. Especially this morning. Sporadic traffic, with drivers getting their bearings after being off-grid and off-routine for the last four days. Cars and trucks finding their grip on the road after a relaxed absence from rush hour travel back to reality. Weaving in and out aimlessly between the call of responsibility and the ease of an existence without alarm clocks and work badges.