There is nothing in which the birds differ more from man than the way in which they can build and yet leave a landscape as it was before.
“The Eagle”He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
~Alfred, Lord Tennyson~
When nature made the blue-bird she wished to propitiate both the sky and the earth, so she gave him the color of the one on his back and the hue of the other on his breast.
A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.
I am, therefore I bird.