Fledglings

July, time of birds perfecting their flying skills. I have been used to watching birds landing perfectly on the smallest of branches every time, changing direction mid-flight like a well drilled footballer, it is amusing to learn that these flying skills have to be earned. The young birds keep missing their targets, hanging in the air for a bit, or changing targets all the time, clearly aiming and missing the clothes hanging wire. Just like a toddler playing football really, kicking empty air, landing on an empty space. I am glad the garden is a place they can practice their skills, but come autumn, I bet they will fly like a ballet dancer, or their parents more like. Ones are not born with grace, ones are born with capacity. Grace comes with practice.

It is almost nine in the morning. Today is supposed to be one of these days of yellow heat warning, 30C or a bit more. I don’t know how, but it feels very pleasant right now (20C, breeze throughout the house). The garden is full of fledgling birds, innocent and playful. They play and they learn, I am sure. The garden has a small water bath, and these fledgling birds like it a lot. It also has some patch of dry soil, for a quick dust bath. One even ventures inside via open door. This is how we learn, I am sure, again, a lesson in exploring the (gradient) landscape. Things seem so serene, so calm and nice and what else do you want.

But inside, the what else do you want is the unanswerable question. The body, the brain are very jumpy, very anxious, very not time to relax. There is always gradient to climb, things to try, work to do, the brain seems to signal. So learning is really a young person game: the unknown feeling is the exciting part. Reaching this age, hardly any feeling is unknown to me.