Tom, I'm surprised at you.

There are hawks and doves, vultures and eagles. Ravens are proper formal beatniks, and peacocks strut at the disco. Birds of paradise dance, flamingos balance, herons pace, swans glide, boobies blunder, and pelicans waddle. There are swallows that come back to Capistrano and parakeets who never leave their guilded cages. Thrushes chirp, cardinals twitter, jays cackle, parrots speak, hummingbirds don't care about the words, and mockingbirds do impressions perched at the Improv, the useless antenna on the roof. Rooks gather in parliaments while falcons feign aristocracy. Kiwis and ostriches don't fly, while arctic terns seem never to land during their bi-Polar lives. Ducks like the water, but penguins are the sleek distance swimmers, porpoiselike in their smoothness. Turkeys, the wild ones, are sly and cautious, far smarter than the ones with the big breasts. Crows travel in murders, though an exaltation of larks passed through just ahead of them. Owls greet the night and roosters greet the day. Robins bring spring and geese snatch autumn. Barn swallows live among rafters and house sparrows live under eaves, and martins will live in the little apartment houses that old ladies provide for them. Partridges are seldom found in pear trees, but the only bird that will be found in a pigeonhole is a pigeon.

Regards--
Mary Anne