I saw a wonderful thing this morning! Just as the sun came up, I was walking on the meadow path by the creek. It is down the hill from my and Mimi’s house. A hundred blackbirds ate their breakfast in the meadow grass. As I walked toward them, the birds closer to me flew up and settled on the other side of the flock. They did so continuously. They were a rising and falling wave of black birds against the green-brown field.

At once they decided—all together, as if they had the same mind—to fly to a tree. They rose in a wavery but true sphere of black bodies and wings toward a tree. It is winter, still, and the tree has bare branches. The tree has a teardrop shape, rounder at bottom, narrower toward the top that ends in a point. How marvelous!

As the ball of birds flew upward it took the shape of the tree, but larger at first, and then shrank to the size of the actual tree as the birds lighted on its branches. It was wonderful to watch this happen with the grey sky in the background. The tree seemed to have black leaves, too, but just for a minute.

So, blackbirds are artists in a flock! This morning they also reminded me that God is an artist. He makes art together with his creatures. Now, how wonderful is that? What a beautiful thing I saw this morning! I thought of my granddaughters, right then and there. I wanted you to know about it too. – Papa

Update, May 25, 2011.

David Lyle Jeffrey remarks on the poetry of Richard Wilbur in the June/July 2011 issue of First Things and mentions a poem on the birds.  Of course Wilbur’s observation recalled what I saw and reported to Laura.  He wrote,

As if a cast of grain leapt back to the hand,

A landscapeful of small black birds, intent

On the far south, convene at some command

At once in the middle of the air, at once are gone

With headlong and unanimous consent

From the pale trees and fields they settled on.

After a paragraph or two of Jeffrey’s comment, another stanza from Wilbur reads,

Delighted with myself and with the birds,

I set them down and give them leave to be.

It is by words and the defeat of words,

Down sudden vistas of the vain attempt,

That for a flying moment one may see

By what cross-purposes the world is dreamt.

Sing! Swoop! Swish! Wing syncs with beak,

Swallows’ dusk sortie.

-js

That wingborne delight comes from the givers’ provision.  The “good stuff” is not cheap, nor is it second-rate, the kind some birds turn away from–they understand stingy giving and simply choose something else.  The givers give for the sake of present and anticipated joy, liberally, and they get to share in grace redoubled.  It all comes from a life-attitude, not a singular, selfish desire just to enjoy the local wildlife, but to show they share somehow in a common life borne of a common provision.  It is so with the birds and is potentially true for all their relationships!  As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. 

The Father provides, and so do his children.  Grace is a gift received and given.  Providence is divine, but people pass it on to others.  It is not only spiritual or only material, mostly these are inseparable in the gift.  Either way or together, through the Spirit there is provision and there is delight.  It is the wingborne foundation for a life of joy. 

Our international culture lore and our use of domesticated birds abounds with the birds and the “wing-beat” of their work and significance:  storks bring children to parents; the hummingbirds–Mayan divinities incarnate–do they not sip the gods’ nectar?  The gospel dove descending upon the Son of Man (or in gospel songs on people as the Great Speckled Bird or the Snow White Dove); the swallows heralding spring at San Juan Capistrano; the American Bald Eagle, bird of peace first, then war; the albatross of Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner”; the California Sespe condors–a weak flock though they are outsized fowl.  The pampered peafowl of India.  Moving closer to our hearts, and table habits, the Thanksgiving Turkey (the wild turkey does indeed fly, yes, Sir, Mr. Franklin of Philadelphia and the Pilgrims of Plymouth!), and, just as with the chicken-domesticators of the Indus Valley, 6,000 b.c.e., do we not all (well, most of us) partake of the yardbird, aided these days by the Arkansas Tysons and the Texas Pilgrims?  And eggs, too. 

About the wing-beat, in another entry.

Words are tombstones.

Words are bridges over chasms. One usually walks across without looking down. If one looks down he is liable to feel giddy.

Words are also boards laid over a shaft, concealing it.

To be a philosopher is to open tombs, look into abysses, climb down shafts.

Word-speaking, word-pictures — such as we find in his Star of Redemption later.

[from Nahum N. Glatzer (presenter), Franz Rosenzweig, His Life and Thought, Indianapolis: Hackett, 1998]

Here and there, in the newspapers, advertisements, books, yes–in student papers–but even in publications from those folk who should know better, I find the expression, “As I was pouring over this idea,” or “I poured over his book,” or some whatnot . . . .

World, let’s not let the vulgar tongue take us down that trail!  One “pores” over something of interest such as a book; one does not “pour.”  The infinitives are, respectively, “to pore” as opposed to “to pour.”

There!  Now wasn’t that snippy of me?  Now, the interesting and instructive thing about these forms is that they both appear to come from the same Middle English “pouren,’ but somehow their spelling reflects a history of either transitive or intransitive usage.  Or they may be considered to have nothing to do with one another.  There is at least one instance of “pore” being used for “pour” in Chaucer.

And among the four groups — the Unarians, Decenarians, Centenarians, and Millennarians — does the denomination suggest its members vary in their ability to cope with “the noonday demon” called acedia?  Do the Millennarians, who are allowed to emerge once every thousand years, have a special gift of focused discipline that allows them to endure?  Or do the others do better?  How do they vary in their encounters with boredom, or depression, or apathy?  Stephenson may have some answers from the geek-sci-fi- side; I’m reading Norris for hers.

The marvelous journalistic media assure we shall have our daily presentist mixed doses of shock and surprise, banality and the constant insistence that so much of what we see and hear is entirely new, unprecedented, even revolutionary.

How American!

Need a new way to lambaste a candidate who is too: old, young, verbose, close-mouthed, tall, short, liberal, conservative, inexperienced, connected, religious, irreligious . . . ? Those descriptors immediately call to mind: Reagan, Kennedy, Stevenson, Coolidge, Lincoln, Douglas, Clinton, Goldwater, Obama, Hayes, Wilson, Roosevelt . . . . Why, when RR ran in 1980 one would have thought some people expected a state funeral not long after inauguration — that is, IF the poor old guy lived long enough. (Hear the echoes directed toward McCain). There is always something to make fun of, either just for fun, or with sincere malicious intent.

So, what about the Paris Hilton thing this week? Fun, obviously. But what is so new about celebrities weighing in either to poke fun, or to soberly advocate the merits of their favored candidate? Nothing new there, not in all the history of American politics.

But it’s not fun for John McCain, really. What a challenge is laid before him! Consider the candidates and the varied, sometimes secondary, characteristics that influence voters. Who’s more entertaining? Who’s a better cheerleader? Who exudes youth and virility? Who shows confidence borne of experience?  Who’s the better debater (wouldn’t we like to know . . . )? Who’s more experienced overall (whoops, probably should be in another list)? Who better represents the U.S.A. demographically, attitudinally, and ideologically (are there some great debating points here)? Whom should we expect to work better with our multicultural America (an unfair question, or quite apt?)? Who would work better with the Congress? Who would help our international image and acceptability (don’t even suggest that’s not important!)?

No, John McCain is no rock star, no “celebrity” as we understand the word. But neither is Barack Obama, though I get the feeling many Americans deep down want a celebrity president — at least someone with the substance, respectability, depth, and character to make us feel better about our top leadership. With that celebrity they want some substance, a strong, respectable image, and confidence.

I think the more important features in that list are in reach both for McCain and Obama. I think we should demand those things. We don’t want celebrities, we want statesmen-leaders. We shall see what we get.

Let’s not forget: McCain and Obama are senators. That fact merits more discussion than it has gotten recently. Yes, McCain has been a senator longer, and the quality of that experience, its depth, is something we need to consider. Most Americans will not dwell on it though. One question dominates: how did these men become senators in the first place? Did they just throw their names in the hat? An appreciable electorate made them senators, no doubt trusting (hoping mightily?) that in the short and long terms they would do some good for their constituencies. That’s nothing to disparage.

Let’s remember, too, that the presidency is at best a humble office. At best it requires greatness in (so far) a man, and the American electorate does not long reward someone who makes us look bad (well, there is the Twenty-second Amendment for extra protection in that case, or even for more expressly partisan purposes, if you will). The comedians and humorists, and Paris Hilton, have a point, even as their jokes and poking fun acknowledge the power of celebrity in our culture. Yes, celebrity attracts us. But there is another side to the matter. A presidential candidate should not try to be God’s best gift to humankind.

Yet at the end of the day we want the kind of confidence, the sense of support, that assures us there are strong, principled, constant persons backing up our lifestyles, our dreams, our goals, and our efforts. These are considerations not entirely determined by age and experience, purpose and motivation, attitude and character. But these things are important. They are akin to the support we appreciate from the folk we value in our lives — those we can always count on to encourage us and to help us in times of trouble — like family elders, brothers and sisters, ministers and priests, coaches, teachers. These are the very qualities we expect from our civil servants from the local to national levels. At best we also expect that of ourselves in our civic and community service (we need to remember that!).

What do we need in a president? Paris Hilton cannot tell us, no, not really — that’s a media-commodity-entertainment thing. We need a president who evokes his commonality with us in our common life, who works to assure that security and liberty are maintained, who knows what makes a nation great in the community of nations and seeks to enhance that community, and who listens well.

I wish we had stronger candidates. Honestly, I cannot think of any presidential campaign, ever, when someone would not have said just that. But there is a truism not always fulfilled in American presidential history. The men have generally risen to the demands of the office. Some have fallen short. A few have succeeded beyond all human expectation. I am more sanguine about such prospects for McCain and Obama, but as always we shall have to wait, and see. For example, a key mark of competence and wisdom consists in the qualities of those cabinet, staff, and agency servants whom our presidents choose to help them advance their responsibilities in office. That has not always been well done.

One more thing: shouldn’t we be taking a look at the composition of our Congress for the next few years? Ponder the argument that the Congress actually is more important when we want to get things done. But that’s another discussion.

– on troubling changes in the culture of literacy:

The “most troubling crisis is the sea change in the culture of literacy itself, the degree to which our overwhelmingly fast and visually furious culture renders serious reading increasingly irrelevant, hollowing out the habits of attention indispensable for absorbing long-form narrative and the following of sustained argument.”

And literate folk generally will agree with Wasserman that the culture of literacy is crucial to the citizens’ exercise of cogent and coherent civic and political life and the health of society.

Another comment by contrast, from Forty Acres and A Goat, by Will D. Campbell, about himself: (p. 3)

“At first the consolidated country high school seemed big to him. He once counted the books in the library and there were almost two hundred. He wondered how it would be to know everything in all those books. Then one day one of the teachers drew a big circle on the blackboard. She made a tiny dot in the circle. She told them the circle was the world and that if they knew everything in every book in every library in the world, the little dot was how much they would know. He questioned how important books were after that.”

His questioning did not keep him from writing books.

His writing books did not sunder his modesty and humility about the limitations of books and learning — the kinds of limitations that divide people rather than bring them together. Many “Bible-believing Baptists” have shared with other folk the conviction that that Bible was enough. It is interesting, though, how the Bible has prompted so much writing of books.

There is a point worth exploring, one relevant to Wasserman’s concerns, and one he acknowledged in his article. It is that the “print” media have great power. But limited power. Most people do not read books. Or newspapers — certainly not as in times past. “Reading” on the Internet has grown, but it is not the same “literacy” of concern. And all print media influences touch people indirectly and at a distance, though no less certainly.

What is in contention is whether those influences are what we want and need. The quick conclusion? Usage, markets, and the influence of the “democraweb” will provide such diversity of opinion that we may, “have the world” and at yet have little of clear value.

In a new twist on old news, this time from the UK (The Times [London], January 14; and poorly covered or characterized in the American mass media) Tara Brabazon, a British professor (U. of Brighton), weighed in on the dangers of relying too much on Web resources such as Google (“White bread for the mind;” “Google is filling, but it does not necessarily offer nutritional content.”) and Wikipedia. What most media commentators missed was her assertion that students must be taught to distinguish between reliable and less reliable sources on the Internet. Students should learn to work with the library, and books, and the Web, and to be able to discern between sources and make reliable interpretations of them. And that takes me back to the point of value: yes, there are many non-negotiable cultural foundations that should be familiar to students — the stuff of an adequate liberal arts curriculum, for example. Yet the culture always evolves, and much that is new gets attention. What persists because of its value does so because enough people make it part of their lives or recognize it as relevant to start with.

Consider this: the World Wide Web is a triumph of ephemerae. And trivia – collected, or deposited, as by travellers exchanging information and opinion at a rest stop or roadway inn. Most of what you find there won’t last. Interestingly though, for now, the Web provides (increasingly by the day, and from reliable sources) unparalleled access to much that has long been of enduring value in world cultural traditions. It is a tool, or set of tools, to be approached and used wisely, as one would approach a library, whether of 200 volumes like the one in Will Campbell’s high school, or any other.

Such speech could be intentional but probably is not. The style heightens the sense of immediacy and urgency in speech and writing, but the frequent clumsiness in media speech suggests it is neither intentional or planned. The Greek style of the Gospel of Mark employs the technique effectively, though. Mark situates the life and ministry of Jesus in an active, brisk, sometimes breathless setting wherein his divine mission and human needs constantly intersect.
Some words, and some neologisms, get too much exposure; we use them too much. Here are some I could live without, at least in the senses and ways they are typically used:

incredible– It seems to be the omnicompetent adjective of the day and is rarely used in its literal sense. It seems not to mean anything, really. Or too much: despite the intended praise, who wants to be known as “an incredible human being”? Don’t we need more credibility?
in-depth — I weep for the numerous, more suitable adjectives scorned in favor of that awkward term.

impacted — there was a time when the term referred only to wisdom teeth and bowels. It’s still an unpleasant word, even for a universal, verbalized noun-cum-transitive verb. What and who isn’t being “impacted” these days by something or someone? Why, only the other day the local newspaper related how one car impacted another in a crash! Moreover, these days one must surely be most effective or influential when one is impactful.

I could go on, but I need to confess that as we Americans change our speech in ways alternatively annoying and delightful, people around the globe continue to outstrip us as they use and transform English. Someone said the other day that the global language is not English but broken English. I’ll not lament that a language that belongs to everyone must belong to none; rather, I am relieved that I do not have to conduct business and life using broken Chinese or Russian. But I am perhaps no richer for that and my being functionally monolingual. And so my respect for international friends and acquaintances who have made great efforts, successfully, to learn English grows deeper by the year.