It seems that from the moment the ice is gone in the Lake each spring until it returns in winter, there are times when all the diving and skimming birds spontaneously and mysteriously congregate in huge rafts. It’s obvious they do it because there are equally huge schools of fish near the surface – sometimes it even looks like the water is doing a slow boil, as the fish launch themselves a few inches above water. It brings the gulls and terns and cormorants from near and far. Occasionally even a great blue heron will flap around, trying awkwardly, and without success, to get in on the feast. It always makes me stop and watch; it’s such a phenomenon. I wish I knew how they knew. Seemingly, it happens out of nowhere. Maybe one bird flies over and sees the shadow of the school, then that bird tells another, and that one tells another and so on and so on…that would do it. Or maybe it’s something else, like bird telepathy. Personally, I believe in that, and not just for birds, but for all species, ourselves included. Some call it M-field energy; others call it the 100th Monkey Syndrome, it’s also been called “subtle energy.” It’s the level of consciousness where we are all connected, and information can pass between individuals and groups by non-conventional means.
Well, whatever the answer is, the gathering of birds serves to remind us that there is still much wonder to be found in the world. Because I live near Point Pelee, in Canada, I am fortunate to be able to witness both the spring and fall bird migrations, plus the fall monarch butterfly migration. And on occasion, the fish and birds come together in the waves just beyond my backyard.
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.