rocket_birds raze rocks and trees, she said. somehow i heard her say rocket birds. and i wondered how a tired brain could bend mineraloid matter and the perennial plants that allow us to breathe into something so unnecessary. because a bird doesn't require a jet-propelled cluster of cones to grant it flight. there's more than enough magic already stitched into its spine to make a mockery of any aircraft arrogant enough to believe it belongs in the sky beside all the winged things that weave their way through famine and fog with a grace no machine could hope to match. 251019 what's it to you? who go blather from