My Mother is a Tree

Aliyeh Ataei

Aliyeh Ataei's essay: "My Mother is a Tree", has been published by The Markaz Review.

Translated from Persian by Siavash Saadlou

Starlings fly in flocks. When migrating in the fall, they form captivating curves and awe-inspiring arcs in the sky. If you ever happen to spot them at the time of migration, you’ll see a black flight of birds producing sublime pictures in the sky, their movement no different than that of the stroke of a paint brush. Starlings follow patterns in nature, and no one knows to this day what kind of coordination conjures their beautiful canvases in the sky. Is there, for example, a starling leading the way, or does such supreme discipline happen on its own? It looks like starlings are the most enchantingly rootless creatures when it comes to migration.

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