"Birds do not cling for long. Earth is but half way for them, midway between the ancient waters of their genesis and the heavenly winds of a brief lifetime. They are messengers between here and there, binding humus and heaven, at home in both places. I need the sight of their flight. Birds penetrate the sky's depth, drawing invisible patterns, articulating the emptiness. They fly my eyes into winds and clouds and the crowns of the high cottonwoods. I scan the patterns they weave, chasing them into invisibility."
Meinrad Craighead
from "The Litany of the Great River"
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