Word of the Week #73:

Ornithology

There is one proverb that always comes to my mind, whenever I meet other writers, and for obvious reasons.

“Birds of a feather flock together.”

However, we don’t spend the entire time flocking around, pardon my French.

Occasionally, we do spread our wings. Occasionally, we even race one another.

We tend to begin by invoking the names of our ancestors, the pterodactyls, the true pioneers who literally set the bar for us all to fly over. This essentially began our game of an Inverted Limbo.

After all, what is the point of being a bird if you won’t fly.

Apologies to all the ostriches and the emus and the late dodos.

Now, once we do take flight, it is obvious that while all of these birds may share a love for the skies, but they do not necessarily fly exactly the same way.

Unfortunately, there are far too many fledglings who would rather stayed perched on their branch and twitter.

Some ducks just flap about a few feet from the ground, but if that works for them, what can one say…

Some, like the swan, manage to earn the adoration of the entire world for a plethora of reasons, and the fact that they can fly is hardly anything more than a side-note.

Then, there are the true masters of the sky, the eagles and the falcons, whose flight and majesty humbles all terrestrial beings. The fledglings tweet about how much they wish they could fly as high, but actually do little else.

So, after such encounters, one question is natural to rise in one’s mind: What am I?

Fortunately, in my case, the answer is quite obvious.

Let us check all the facts:

  • I am bad with short, swift flights. Simply horrible. I just cannot get going.
  • I generally take quite some time and effort to take off, and the sight is far from pretty.
  • Even when I do take flight, I am not the fastest or the highest or the most elegant of them all.
  • I have been known to sleep while flying… Or fly while sleeping…
  • It is common knowledge that a saline liquid is always dripping for my nose.
  • And finally, and most importantly, once I am up there, I am not coming down. Often for hours, occasionally even days. I can simply go farther and longer than most would ever dare try.

So, what am I? As I said, the answer is quite obvious. I am an Albatross.

What are you?

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Published by

Yashas Mahajan

Author of Arrkaya: Origins, now available online... Increasingly being referred to as The Writer Guy...

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