birds of Houston
Several months ago, we saw a crane in the street.
It was just after I’d finished a panel presentation at the Menil, to which I’d dragged my kids. On the way home, we saw a weird white bird standing in the middle of Stanford Street. Its long neck made me decide it was a crane.
Later, one time when I was alone, I saw a black crane in someone’s driveway. At night again, in the Montrose again.
Today we were driving home from a show at the George R. Brown Convention Center, to which I’d dragged my kids. “Look, there’s a big spooky tree in the middle of the bayou,” I told the kids.
“Look, the tree’s full of big birds,” said Dallas.
Sure as hell. They were cranes. Now I know where they come from. I guess they fly to the Montrose for the art. Or to drink.
(I just drank two glasses of wine. But I still can’t fly.)
Josh said that wasn’t as good as the chicken he’d seen in the tree.
One time, a while back, after dragging my kids to a show, I’d seen a chicken on an SUV, in a driveway in the Heights. I’d had to drive around the block because the kids missed it the first time. When we came back, the chicken was in a tree.
I think these birds are good omens. They’re trying to tell us that our lives will continue to improve.
