On a Sunday morning a few months ago I set out on one of my usual solo-missions. On the corner above the laundromat, I passed the birds, calmly perching and chirping (that is what they do, right?) along the clothes line that make up the electrical decor of 25th Street.I was moved to look up the instant in which a set of powerful hands from above grabbed the cloud off the wires and shook it free of birds. The sound of a hundred or so wings dispersing at once without song is unlike any you could make with just the air as instrument...
Legend has it this was my first word.
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