Starlings and the Magic of Murmurations: A Stunning Watercolor Celebration of One of Earth’s Living Wonders

Biking back to my rented cottage from CERN one autumn evening, having descended into the underworld of matter for a visit to the world’s largest high-energy particle collider, a sight stopped…

By Maria Popova

Biking back to my rented cottage from CERN one autumn evening, having descended into the underworld of matter for a visit to the world’s largest high-energy particle collider, a sight stopped me up short on the shore of Lake Geneva: In the orange sky over the orange water, myriad particles were swarming in unison without colliding. Except they were not particles — they were birds. Thousands of them. A murmuration of starlings — swarm intelligence at its most majestic, emergence incarnate, a living reminder that the universe is “nothing but a vast, self-organizing, complex system, the emergent properties of which are… everything.”

The majesty and mystery of murmurations come alive with uncommon beauty in We Are Starlings: Inside the Mesmerizing Magic of a Murmuration (public library) by writers Donna Jo Napoli and Robert Furrow, illustrated by artist Marc Martin, who also brought us the wondrous A Stone Is a Story.

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Give Us a Tune: “Pavanne”

Performed by June Tabor

From June Tabor’s “Against the Streams” 1994

Performed by Dave Swarbrick with vocals by Simon Nicol

From Dave Swarbrick & Simon Nicol “When We Were Young”

Performed by Richard and Linda Thompson

“Pavanne” by Richard Thompson

Pavanne, cold steel woman Pavanne
How do you love a woman
With eyes cold as the barrel of her gun
Who’s never missed her mark on anyone
Pavanne, Pavanne, Pavanne

Casino doors swing open, the rich men raise their eyes
They say who is this beauty as elegant as ice
And later there’s an accident, another charge d’affair
Is lying in a pool of blood, no witness anywhere
And they say she was a hundred miles away
The hotel porter saw her climb the stairs
And the maid with trembling hands knows what to say
When the judge says “Are your sure,” “I’m sure” she swears

Pavanne, cold steel woman Pavanne
How do you love a woman
With eyes cold as the barrel of her gun
Who’s never missed her mark on anyone
Pavanne, Pavanne, Pavanne

At the presidential palace a thousand people saw
His excellency leave his car and never make the door
The blood flows from his fingers as he clutches at the stain
He staggers like a drunken man, lies twisted in the rain
And they say she grew up well provided for
Her mother used to keep her boys for sure
And father’s close attentions led to talk
She learned to stab her food with a silver fork

Pavanne, cold steel woman Pavanne

And they say she didn’t do it for the money
And they say she didn’t do it for a man
They say that she did it for the pleasure
The pleasure of the moment

Pavanne, cold steel woman Pavanne
How do you stop this woman
When everyone is moving in a trance
Like prisoners of some slow, courtly dance
Pavanne, Pavanne, Pavanne
Pavanne, Pavanne, Pavanne

I woke before dawn and Satan was trending

The Sarah Kendzior Newsletter

October 29, 2023

I woke before dawn and Satan was trending.

I did not know why. There were too many options. Was it the mass killing of Palestinian children whose cries were cut off as the Israeli government plunged Gaza into darkness? The theocrat selected to lead the House after backing the unpunished insurrection? The unending pandemic and its deleted data and official obfuscation? Was it Ukraine, Acapulco, Lewiston? Or was there a new geographical shorthand for tragedy?

Had Henry Kissinger finally died?

Sarah Kendzior

That prospect was enough for me to click on “Satan”. But like the X on black, it marked no spot. No tweet it summoned mentioned the devil. But they did not need to when evil is the default mode. I fell down a wormwood wormhole. I spent hours lost in tales of horror, and exploitation of horror, and excuses for horror. I could not decide what scared me more, the silence or the screams.

The algorithm was riding vibes. Satan was superfluous and Twitter was a dead see scroll.

Twitter has always been a place where people go to bear witness to the disappearing world. Like many, I joined in June 2009 to watch the protests in Iran. I watched until they were interrupted by the death of Michael Jackson, and I thought of all the ways the world could stop. For fourteen years, I watched people rise up and I watched their governments beat them down. I watched followers who felt like friends pass away during a plague. I watched election violence and mass shootings and climate catastrophes. I watched strangers from all over the world comfort each other and give advice on how to survive.

That last part – that is why I stayed. Not for the advice, but for the kindness of the gesture.

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Samhain Rituals & Traditions

On or around the 31st October in the northern hemisphere, 1st May in the southern, Samhain is the festival of the dead, a festival of remembrance and honouring of our dear departed friends and relations.

Origins

The word Samhain is pronounced Sow(as in Cow)Inn, and is sometimes written in the Old Scottish Gaelic form as ‘Samhuinn’. It is said that at this special time of Samhain the veil that separates the worlds is at its thinnest. So our world, the world of Faerie, and that of the dead, blend as one. It is no wonder then that this night has become so wrapped in superstition. It is a night of wonder and magic. On this night the Cailleach (the Crone) comes to strip the leaves from the trees, to quicken the decay of the flesh of the year, so that it may feed the new life to come. We can also ask Her to take the unwanted aspects of our personal year away, so that these too might be transformed. Yet even on the darkest night of Samhain, whilst our minds ponder our mortality, if we listen carefully, we can hear the sound of a new-born child crying for its Mother’s breast, for soon it will be Alban Arthan, the Winter solstice, and the Wheel will turn once more.

Deeper Into Samhain / Samhuinn

by Susa Morgan Black (Druid, FSA Scot)

To the ancient Celts, the year had two “hinges”. These were Beltaine (the first of May) and Samhain, or Samhuinn, (the first of November), which is also the traditional Celtic New Year. And these two days were the most magical, and often frightening times of the whole year.

The Celtic people were in superstitious awe of times and places “in between”. Holy sites were any border places – the shore between land and water (seas, lakes, and rivers), bridges, boundaries between territories (especially when marked by bodies of water), crossroads, thresholds, etc. Holy times were also border times – twilight and dawn marking the transitions of night and day; Beltaine and Samhain marking the transitions of summer and winter. Read your myths and fairytales – many of the stories occur in such places, and at such times.

At Samhain (which corresponds to modern Halloween), time lost all meaning and the past, present, and future were one. The dead, and the denizens of the Other World, walked among the living. It was a time of fairies, ghosts, demons, and witches. Winter itself was the Season of Ghosts, and Samhain is the night of their release from the Underworld. Many people lit bonfires to keep the evil spirits at bay. Often a torch was lit and carried around the boundaries of the home and farm, to protect the property and residents against the spirits throughout the winter.

Samhain Rituals

DUMB SUPPER

Many Irish and Scottish Celts appeased their dead with a traditional Dumb Supper. On Samhain Eve, supper was served in absolute silence, and one place was set at the head of the table “for the ancestors”. This place was served food and drink without looking directly at the seat, for to see the dead would bring misfortune. Afterwards, the untouched plate and cup were taken outside “for the pookas”, and left in the woods. In other traditions, this is the night to remember, honor, and toast our beloved departed, for the veil between the living and the dead is thin, and communication is possible on Samhain Eve

Animals and food supplies needed special protection during this time, too. Samhain marked the time cattle, on which the Scottish Highland economy depended, were brought in from their summer grazing to their winter fold. The Gods were petitioned to protect the cattle during the long, hard winter. By now, the winter store of food had been harvested and stored.

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