If you look at the top of any church, arco or old building in Burgos you’re likely to see an enormous stork’s nest. And if it’s the beginning of the mating season there’s a good chance you’ll see at least one stork standing proud, if not a small nesting colony.
Recently we’ve seen a number of storks, hanging out individually and in pairs, and a few days ago passed a church that’s home to a nesting colony of ten or so birds. We stopped to watch two storks flying in circles, battling or perhaps playing. Either way it was an impressive sight. We pulled out our cameras to capture the moment and I was quite happy with the above shot.
The photograph reminds me of the below poem, entitled crane wings, which I wrote a few weeks ago.
crane wings
crane wings lie scattered on remote black shores
beneath a thin grey, textureless sky
the air is heavy with unfinished business
and the land cries out to be saved from the oppression
earth and wind gods confer and consent to a breeze
to clear the murky remains
ancient volcanic sands blow over white feathers
their gritty grains burning holes in silky softness
these broken paper-thin wings of lace
will rise and soar no more nor bear the words of love
from breast to breast
the courtship is over, its brief union having borne no fruit
leaving only the tragedy of separation

Beautiful poem, Mufidah. Words on wing.
Thank you, Karen. Kind words, much appreciated.
Beautiful
Glad you like it, Helen.
Oh to b as free as a crane in flight!
Yes, that would be a wonderful feeling.