Poem of the Day: ‘The Wild Duck’
What sounds to us, on a spring morning, like ambient noise is to the birds a multitude of separate languages, each one distinctly intelligible to its speakers, if to no one else.

Birds cast a peculiarly compelling spell on the human imagination. As ubiquitous as they are — sparrows pecking crumbs under outdoor tables around the world, pigeons squatting universally on statues, starlings swirling in great liquid masses on the evening sky as they filter down into the trees — they remain a mystery to us.
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