DUNCANVILLE, TEXAS — A din reached my ears the moment the car engine stopped. I craned my neck to look through the windshield. A Live Oak grew just ahead, surrounded by pavement and a tiny patch of dirt. The tree teemed with House Sparrows, and I got out of the car to stare in disbelief.

I have of course seen House Sparrows perform their afternoon ritual for years, but I’d never seen a gathering so huge. The entire tree seemed to be in motion, and more little flocks flew in all the time.

After shopping was done, the automatic doors sprang open, and I heard the racket again. A man holding a small child stood still, looking up into the tree. “I wonder what they’re doing. Having a convention,” he mused.

Occasionally, even the commonest of birds stop us in our tracks. Surely spectacle is only part of their power. The rest is mystery. The man wasn’t content to stare. He wanted to understand. And so did I.

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