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17-Mile Ride

The Birds Ride

Annual 17-Mile Ride
Photos by Steve Wilson

The Bird’s Ride with Jean and Dale
Photos by Steve Wilson

Jean O’Donnell observing the avian kingdom.

Solitary bird engaged in cyclist-watching.

Species of bird known as the Fluscheous Anthonius. Found primarily in the Castro Valley region in California, though once migrated from Texas. Distant relative of the now extinct raphus cucullatus (dodo bird). Not known for any distinctive calls, but can be quite vociferous with his endless puerile puns and jokes (captions from the editor).

What are these curious grounded creatures
That spin on wings with rounded features?

At times they are like us on foot
To walk around or just stay put.

Some wander off as lonely eagles
As others flock like squawking seagulls.

They cannot fly, unlike a bird:
Inferior is this lowly herd.

For we are blessed with feathered spans;
They only have those flightless hands.

To travel fast from place to place,
We simply soar with verve and grace.

The circle that they call a wheel:
A compromise, still not ideal.

But like our wings they come in pairs:
With them they can be fast as hares.

As they can travel, far or near,
Their feet will pedal, hands will steer.

So patiently they wait and see
How we would rest, perched on a tree.

Or hear our tuneful avian song
Then try their best to sing along.

These two-wheeled friends are pleasant guests,
Their four-wheeled cousins are just pests:

They’re loud and send up soot-filled smoke;
The poisoned air then makes us choke.

Why there aren't more whose wheels are two?
Regrettably they're just too few.

Man drives their cars, and claim a need
To quench that thirst for power and speed.

If only they were born to fly,
To be near heaven in the sky.

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