Birds would soar through it into the upper radiance, and hang on the wing sunning themselves, or alight on the wet rails subdividing the mead, which now shone like glass rods.

Autumn September, quiet night is drizzly rain break. Rain, climbed by autumn leaves covered with old sill; rain, wet coccidian wing, also poured me a distant dream.

Likewise, birds can get in trouble with power lines if wing or wrist bones-or wet feathers-connect bare wires and grounds.