Starlings

I have never in my life seen anything as bizarre or as beautiful as this. It’s like a symphony of some sort. It’s like oceans in the sky. I’ve never been much of a traveller, Zonk, and until today, if you’d asked me what places I’d like to see, I wouldn’t really have been able to tell you in all honesty that there is a place in so-and-so country and I’m dying to go there. But I’ve seen this today. And I can answer that question now.

If I had time and I had money, I would sort out the paperwork and book my tickets to England and go to Otmoor, east of Oxford. On some cold, winter’s day. And wait there till sundown.

To see this.

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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