Birds are not the only things that murmur:

Before the world was simplified and distilled by science, nature was the first to impress, entertain, surprise, and inspire us. What happened?

In class today, I had a peer ask if a video of starlings murmuring was Al generated. I initially responded to this question with an open mind, but then it just made me sad. I realized how depressing it is to witness other people's skepticism and refusal of natural beauty. I don't know when Al became the epitome of the transcendent and breath-taking, but nature was here first.

When I say my soul is restless, this is what it looks like.

When I say my mind is spurred, this is what I feel. When a poet says they have a heart murmur, what they mean is that there is a knocking in their ribcage wanting to be answered. In the same way the starlings have to trust that they won't collide into each other, we have to trust ourselves too. How do they know when to turn, when to stop, when to fall, when to rise? They don't. One would say that the unpredictability of nature is what makes it beautiful. It's a shame that we witness nature as if we are not a part of it. Somehow our human egos place us above and outside of nature's chaos and order, but we are more alike than we think. We, too, try to stave off the chill of stagnancy and purposelessness with waves of motivation. The reason we stare so adamantly at these mesmerizing flocks is because deep down, it mirrors an intrinsic part of us that also wants to move without the pressure of knowing where we're meant to go.

Birds are not the only things that murmur: one of the most aimless species are people. And still, we both manage to create wonders.