Blackbirds Over Lake Chapala
I no longer have to look away from the sunset
to know the birds are flying over.
I’ve come to recognize the sound,
like water rushing against the banks of a stream,
of thousands of wings pumping then gliding then pumping.
The ribbon of their combined mass
twists for miles like a giant ghost snake in the sky,
its molecules dividing, joining,
undulating from the green marsh grass
into eye blue sky.
Birds silhouette against
an edge of tangerine cloud
that is a scribble of glue in the sky.
Below them,
the smell of dirt, smoke from the burning mountain,
drum beats from the heart of the hazed city.
A canoe shaped like a Nile barge bumps against the reeds.
Sounds of a new flock flying over whip the air
above the night heron
who stands on short legs
on a post surrounded by low water.
The whole mass of birds is blown by the wind forth and back,
forth and back.
Some separate and circle back to marsh grass
where another mass lifts to fly east,
away from the setting sun.
The scene is ripped by
the rapid raucous staccato of two small boys
lofting rocks toward the soaring banks of birds,
violence feisty in their harsh raised voices.
Again and again they throw their stones,
a futile gesture,
as above them the sun turns angry orange
over the purple mountains,
then sinks to radiate like something sacred
from behind dark clouds.
Watching two egrets open the air with pencil points, then vanish into it,
I only hear the diving pelican cut the water behind the tall reeds.
And, like a sudden wind over my head,
a new rush of blackbirds.
A number of people wanted to see photos of the blackbirds taking flight at Lake Chapala, so I spent a few hours going through old boxes of photos and found some which you can see HERE. The picture I used to illustrate above is one I took of starlings, I believe, and not taken at Lake Chapala, although the skies look similar!
What a scene you have painted with your poetry.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Amazing images of birds at twilight. Even of the boys with their stones. If you get to witness this on a regular basis, you are blessed indeed.
LikeLike
For the first five years or so I lived here, I did. Then the lake filled up and the acres of cattails vanished so these huge flocks no longer reside there.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s a real shame. Is it because of development?
LikeLike
No. Because the lake came up again and filled its banks so the land they filled is now under water. So it is good news.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Plenty of other birds. Just not these murmurations of thousands of birds.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I sometimes see them over the fields on the way to Guadalajara, though.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So well described. The egrets line is particularly poetic
LikeLike
Thanks, Derrick.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a delightful scene to witness, you describe it magically!
Love your use of words like open and cut to describe the water … great shot!
LikeLike
Thanks, Kate.
LikeLiked by 1 person
my pleasure!
LikeLike
I’m so glad you wrote about blackbirds, Judy, they seem to be taken for granted or even overlooked, when they are such endearing birds with a beautiful song. I love the way you describe the sound of them flying over ‘like water rushing against the banks of a stream’, the image of the ‘ribbon of their combined mass’ that:
‘twists for miles like a giant ghost snake in the sky,
its molecules dividing, joining,
undulating from the green marsh grass
into eye blue sky’
and the contrast of the flock above and the solitary night heron below.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I never go down and walk along the lake anymore now that those wetland marshes and the acres of cattails are gone. It’s better for the lake, as it means it is once again full, but I do miss the sight of those huge swarms of birds coming in for the day, then leaving for the night.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Superb description, Judy and what a photo!
LikeLike
I wish I had a photo of the long strings of birds mentioned in the poem..They were like a horizontal tornado of birds scribbled across the sky. I don’t think I ever got a photo in that pre-digital age. Just a mental image.
LikeLike
It’s hard to get photos of birds in flight unless you have a really good camera. As long as it’s in your head, that’s the main thing 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I must have taken photos. I’ll have to look in old files. Such stunning sights. I’d never seen anything like those strings, miles long. If they were starlings they’d perhaps be called murmurations.
LikeLike
Starlings tend to make clouds, I think rather than strings. Seeing any birds in a flock is getting rarer, as are the birds…
LikeLike
Yes.. I know.. This photo was taken of starlings.. either at the beach or in Missouri. I guess I need to look to see if I have any photos of the blackbirds.. they were amazing.
LikeLike
Do post them if you have one. I’d like to see what a flock of blackbirds looks like.
LikeLike
I spent hours going through boxes and albums of old photos and found just two that show the birds lifting out of the reeds. I’ll post them, Jane.
LikeLike
Can you tag me in the post so I can find it?
LikeLike
https://judydykstrabrown.com/2020/07/29/blackbirds-over-lake-chapala-2/
LikeLike
Such a beautifully written piece. ❤️
LikeLike
Thanks, Lucy. Glad you enjoyed sharing that memory.
LikeLiked by 1 person
great images judy. i especially love ‘eye blue sky’
LikeLike
This teems with life.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me too, “eye blue sky” is a wonderful and refreshing addition to the lexicon of blues. As a kid, we lived next to a field, with a huge maple in the middle of it. I swear a 1,000 blackbirds would perch in it, and they did the avian dances you described.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glenn, I’m posting the two photos I can find. They don’t do justice to scene, but show a few of the vast numbers of birds that spent the day in the cattails and reeds every day.
LikeLike
You paint a wonderful word picture of birds and sky and people and sounds. Really great!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh…thanks so much.
LikeLike
You’ve painted a beautiful picture. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pingback: Blackbirds over Lake Chapala 2 | lifelessons – a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown
I really love this stream-of-consciousness immersion poem.
LikeLike
Thanks, Jade.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLike
I could imagine everything, including the sounds, as I read your poem. I enjoyed my time lost in your imagery. Thank you!
LikeLike
Thanks, Susie…so glad it was a good experience for you.
LikeLike