BLOGGER IDOL WEEK 12
yes, I do realize that I originally had it listed as week 11. don't feel obligated to note my mistakes.
Well, here we are in Blogger Idol week 12. And this week's topic was suggested by Lori from Downtown Chick Chat. I tried my best with this. Several ideas flew through my head as I was falling off to sleep last night and this is the one that stuck:
Finally the cacaphony of clucking settled as the midday feeding began. The poor little chick forced her way into the frenetic cluster with little appetite. The pecking order being what it was, she would barely find her place before it was all over. Shoved aside by the other chicks, she kept moving in search of her spot -anyplace really where she might be able to insinuate herself into the group. She was one of the bantam of the bunch and far less aggressive. She didn't seem to grasp the idea that it was a fight to the finish -survival of the fittest. She'd be lucky to survive, much less to flourish from the fracas.
Birds of a feather? Birds of a feather? What did that mean really? Certainly her plummage wasn't much different from that of the preferred chicks of the flock. All were made essentially the same by nature. But somehow, even the old hens and certainly the roosters seemed to favor the preponderate of the chicks over the less prominent of the cluster. Certainly our chick made every effort to merge with the flock. But did they really flock together?
Surely this addage didn't apply to physical attributes. Birds of a feather flock together. It must refer more to the inate assertiveness and social activity of the flock -the very pecking order itself seemed to attest to this fact. The current state of affairs seemed to prove that. Those who did the pecking were unquestionably the hierarchy. And regardless of efforts to change that, our chick will never truly change ranks.
Puffing out her breast and preening just mildly, she picked up her books, left her lunch tray and walked away. Clearly her outer appearance had very little to do with that old saying. It was metaphoric, not meant to translate exactly. Whatever her outer appearance, there was something in her make up that didn't permit her to blend with the "cool" crowd. She wanted more than anything just to be herself. If being cool meant she had to give up her self, she'd no desire to fit in. Let them flock together. She wasn't that unique. Let those birds flock together. She belonged to an entirely different breed.
yes, I do realize that I originally had it listed as week 11. don't feel obligated to note my mistakes.
Well, here we are in Blogger Idol week 12. And this week's topic was suggested by Lori from Downtown Chick Chat. I tried my best with this. Several ideas flew through my head as I was falling off to sleep last night and this is the one that stuck:
Finally the cacaphony of clucking settled as the midday feeding began. The poor little chick forced her way into the frenetic cluster with little appetite. The pecking order being what it was, she would barely find her place before it was all over. Shoved aside by the other chicks, she kept moving in search of her spot -anyplace really where she might be able to insinuate herself into the group. She was one of the bantam of the bunch and far less aggressive. She didn't seem to grasp the idea that it was a fight to the finish -survival of the fittest. She'd be lucky to survive, much less to flourish from the fracas.
Birds of a feather? Birds of a feather? What did that mean really? Certainly her plummage wasn't much different from that of the preferred chicks of the flock. All were made essentially the same by nature. But somehow, even the old hens and certainly the roosters seemed to favor the preponderate of the chicks over the less prominent of the cluster. Certainly our chick made every effort to merge with the flock. But did they really flock together?
Surely this addage didn't apply to physical attributes. Birds of a feather flock together. It must refer more to the inate assertiveness and social activity of the flock -the very pecking order itself seemed to attest to this fact. The current state of affairs seemed to prove that. Those who did the pecking were unquestionably the hierarchy. And regardless of efforts to change that, our chick will never truly change ranks.
Puffing out her breast and preening just mildly, she picked up her books, left her lunch tray and walked away. Clearly her outer appearance had very little to do with that old saying. It was metaphoric, not meant to translate exactly. Whatever her outer appearance, there was something in her make up that didn't permit her to blend with the "cool" crowd. She wanted more than anything just to be herself. If being cool meant she had to give up her self, she'd no desire to fit in. Let them flock together. She wasn't that unique. Let those birds flock together. She belonged to an entirely different breed.
posted by Lisa at
4/05/2004 07:57:00 AM
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