Day 5: The Migrating Birds (The Departure)
7 Days of Late Autumn | Day 5: The Migrating Birds
A sudden rush of wings splits the grey overhead.
A sharp V cutting through the clouds,
moving south, moving fast,
following a compass stitched into their very blood.
They do not argue with the wind; they use it.
They do not stay to see the snow; they flee.
I look up from the cold pavement and envy their instinct—
the simple, unburdened wisdom of knowing
exactly when a place has grown too cold
for you to stay.
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