I grew up in Texas, often wakened by the rasp of blue jays outside my window, frequently entertained by mockingbirds with their collection of stolen songs. Buzzards circled in the sky. On the ground, close up, they’re hideous creatures, but high overhead, riding the wind, barely moving their wings, they looked majestic.
When we moved to Rochester, Minnesota, I watched the Canadian geese migrating to and from the fields in their “V” formation. Sometimes they passed so low overhead I could hear the wind in their wings, not to mention their constant honking. I later learned they can fly 70 percent further in formation than they can fly alone.