A. Blinken….. The other day Granny and I were sitting in the truck waiting for Tally at the clinic, and a flock of blackbirds appeared in the blue sky and floated like a black lace handkerchief into the bare branches of a winter tree. After a few seconds, on no signal I could see, the whole flock of one mind rose and transposed itself to a nearby leafless tree. They talked among themselves and then flashed as a school over a scrawny lawn and to the fingers of a tree across the way. How did they do it? How did they know to move as a single thing, all in one group? They chatter in clusters when they’re in a tree, so it can’t be that one blackbird with stars on his shoulders says, "all right, to that tree over there, on three, hup two three!" Besides, there is no formation to speak of, the flock rolls and folds itself on its trip between trees like sparkling black taffy. Did they have telepathy, in one heartbeat did the idea grow from one tiny bird brain to another and another like a fire until they reached critical mass and leapt from the tree? They flew from the tree and over the truck and I almost broke my neck following from the front window to the rear. They flocked in a tree behind us, not far from the river. Granny broke my contemplation: "there are examples of folks bein’ folks everywhere." I said, "what?" Granny nodded toward the flock, "weren’t you wondering how they all knew to fly to the same place? Weren’t you noticing how like us they are?" "Yes, and no. I was wondered how they all know to move at once, and how they all know where they’re going." "They don’t all know to move at once, boy. Look closer. A few birds at the top of the tree move, then the lower ones, then the lower ones. Some are ready and leap early, but the birds at the top decide when to leap and the others leap because the ones above them leap. Sound like anybody else you know?" "You mean it doesn’t happen all at once? It seems to." "Because you’re thinking you speed, not them speed. It happens right quick, but not all at once. Every bird makes the decision to fly, but they make it for different reasons." "Like what?" "Well, lots of practical reasons. They’re all looking for food, and maybe the last couple of days of sunshine have caused some flyin’ critters to sprout. If the flock travels through the swarm, the bug a bird misses is ready for his neighbor, the slipstream will bring it right to them. Other things, too, like it’s easier to fly behind someone, so birds try to find a place behind another bird. The main reason, though, is to stay part of the flock. It’s a lot easier to talk about with folks, we also flock like that." "We do?" "Over and over. You ever see folks on a freeway at 7:30 in the morning? Just like a flock of birds. But, that’s only one, kind of simple example. Take something else, like political parties or sports fans or religions. Why do people believe what they do? Ever wonder?" "Sure." "It ain’t logic, boy. Logic is how they explain what they already did. No, it’s flocking behavior, just like the blackbirds. Each person only knows what they know, but when they see everyone else going somewhere, they’ll go too. Most people pick the middle way. Like, for religion, they’ll observe the main celebrations, get married and buried, and when they’re old, they’ll believe again like they did as children, but in the meantime, they’re busy at something else. Still, when most other folks are at temple, they are too. Take political parties. Nobody knows much of anything about the parties or the people they put forward. There are voting records for some, but they are hard to understand because of the way bills are stacked; a person votes for five different things at once. Most people only sorta look at voting records. Mostly, they want to know what folks most like themselves are doing. Now, like the blackbirds, we squawk and talk a lot. A blackbird high in the tree will say, ‘aren’t you worried about such and such? Aren’t you worried about brown people moving up, aren’t you worried about strangers killing you?’ Someone will say, ‘I’m worried about strangers killing me’ then another, then others and others, and then the blackbird high in the tree says, ‘I’ll protect you! Follow me, I’ll protect you from strangers!’ and so everyone follows that bird for awhile. If you could watch the flock from up close you’d see that most of the time a bird is where she is because of who she knows, and who she’s related to. So, it isn’t always the same leader, but the leaders are generally related, like European royalty, or even American political royalty. For the leaders, the main thing is to have a flock to lead. For the rest of the birds the main thing is to have someone to be with, a flock to belong to. Like sports. Who actually gives a crap about the game? Whatever game it is, it’s mostly people fighting over a ball. No one can seriously believe the ball is important. No one believes the players are important, players are like bureaucrats, they fill a position for awhile then something happens and they are promoted, demoted or fired and a new hero takes that place. Nope, it’s plain and simple the chance to belong to a flock, to have your flock be victorious over another flock, that’s what we blackbirds like. If something changes, old enemies flock together. That’s what it’s about, A.B., for most people, everything they do, everything they think, is about belonging to a flock." The birds wheel over head and land down by the river. "So, really, the leaders of the flock don’t know where they’re going when they fly?" "Well, sure, they have an idea. They know what the flock wants, so they go where the flock wants to go. If they’re hungry, they look for food. If they’re tired, they look for a nice tree. Does it mean they’ll necessarily go to the best place, no, not at all. They’ll go to a middling place. Like most flocks, political parties and churches, they mostly come to a middling agreement, not great, not too bad, something most of the voting flock can agree with." "Doesn’t sound like the best way to arrive at a decision." "Regrettably, no," Granny agreed, "not the best way, but a middling way. Not as good as true, rational leadership, but not as bad as a Korean dictator, though even he has to please the flock." Granny went on, "I’ll bet you didn’t wonder why that flock is here so early, almost a month early. I’ll bet you didn’t notice they’re all female." "No, I guess I just wondered how they all flew together like that." "Well, now you know that, you better worry why they’re here now. It might mean their habitat vanished over the summer, maybe somebody down in the flats built a bunch of houses over their stomping grounds. It might mean an early spring. Of course, A.B., if you’re going to talk about the blackbird you have to talk about Wallace Stevens." "Who?" "A poet. He wrote thirteen verses on a blackbird. The second verse is like your question:

I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds."

She said, "now, you know you’ll follow the first blackbird to leave the tree."

"Oh," I said, "yah." "So," she said, "who you gonna vote for this year?" I said, "the guy who’ll protect me from strangers." "Yeah. Me, too." Tally came out of the clinic and I said, "scoot over, here she comes." I started the truck and the blackbirds jumped into the air as one flock, one church, one party. Go, team, go.

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

Wallace Stevens