How Fine You Are In Your Way

"So come, come ride in my street-car by the bay
For now I must know how fine you are in your way
And the sea sure as I
But you won't need to cry
For it's really too hard for the fly"
 - Fly, by Nick Drake


If you visit Austin, keep an eye upwards, and not just because of the far-reaching skies. Under the Lake Austin Congress bridge live a colony of bats which form a rising cloud as twilight approaches. It's a spectacle which inspires various tours, and artwork of bats around the city. (They are, certainly, beloved not only for the unique sight, but for the fact that they eat mosquitos, the bane of long Texas summers).

Austin is also home to monk parakeets; colorful, tropical birds which are said to have originated from an escaped flock in the 1970's. The wild species can occasionally be seen flitting through the treetops in bright green flashes. The other day, I spotted a huge nest on the side of a telephone poll in my office parking lot; one parakeet was chirping animatedly from the telephone wire while another sat contentedly inside the nest.

Yet as exotic as these species are, it's perhaps the common grackle which is my favorite. Growing up, I learned how to identify a number of birds and their calls, and though I have several favorite country birds, the grackle always fascinated me because I'd only hear it's distinctive call in the city. It's not exactly a pretty call - not a wistful, lovely song like the chuck-will's-widow, for example - but it's absolutely unique. I'd hear them most often when my family was in the city visiting my Grandma. They'd be in the trees in her front yard, in the park, in the grocery store parking lot - anywhere in the city. They are sleek and black, but without any obvious markers. Simple black birds is all, which some people may see as noisy and overpopulated. Maybe they are, yet I love them nonetheless.

Each day going to and from work, there they are. Hopping along the sidewalks and calling their unique sounds from the trees. They are scrappy city survivors. Scrappy and thriving. They may not seem like much, just plain little black birds, but oh that call. I hear it and think of how it fascinated me as a child.

We can't all be as pretty in looks or song as mockingbirds, red-breasted robins, chuck-will's-widows, cardinals, hawks, owls, or blue jays. We may not be exotic and Austin-esque as bats or parakeets or even the peacocks which walk regally around their own special park, a favorite for photographers. Maybe we feel as though we're "just" common grackles, when really, there's no "just" about them or anyone else at all. I saw a grackle in a parking lot fluffing his feathers and strutting his stuff in what I'm sure was a mating ritual in front of another bird. He looked confident and bold. He was showing off how special he is, even if - at a glance - he might appear to be like any other bird.

May we see and appreciate the unique beauty in all creatures and humans and ourselves. May we be fascinated by the ordinary, and remember to be fascinating in turn, because, as with all beings, we are.