Last night, I had a wild dream in which a huge flock of small, dark birds was swirling against a dark blue sky.  One small section of the sky had some wisps of what I guess were meant to be cirrus clouds, and as the birds reached that part of the sky, even the clouds began to whirl and take wing along with the birds. I was mesmerized in the dream, and tried to photograph the phenomenon.

A few hours later, driving the beach road on the way to the gallery, I was startled to see a huge flock of small, dark birds flying and swirling over Jockey's Ridge. I pulled over to try to take some photographs, hoping to find out what these little birds are. I suspected I was seeing a migration in progress, but whose?

Closer focus revealed that the birds were Tree Swallows, who gather in flocks numbering in the tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands as they migrate south for the winter and back north in the spring. I had not seen such a large flock of birds since childhood in northern Virginia. While the sky held more clouds than my dream (and the clouds were stationary), I immediately connected my daylight experience to my dreamtime one. 

I turned around and drove into Jockey's Ridge State Park but by then the flock had moved out of my view. As always, I am so grateful for the opportunity to be witness, to be present, to give voice, to give honor, to give thanks.