Bird Baseball Game Under Migrating Starlings

(The diamond glows under a sky thick with migrating starlings, their wings clacking like wooden bats. A robin in a tiny leather glove winds up, its beak hooked around a worm-shaped baseball. A blue jay in a catcher’s mask hops side to side, squawking, "Chirp! Fastball! Fastball!" The pitcher releases - whoosh - and a sparrow with a maple-leaf bat slams the worm into the outfield. A murder of crows dives, cawing, but a red-tailed hawk snags it mid-air, soaring toward a giant oak tree with a "HOME RUN" sign nailed to its trunk. The crowd - sparrows in tiny jerseys, owls with binoculars - erupts in hoots and tweets. A pigeon vendor waddles by, selling acorn hot dogs and dewberry soda. The umpire, a grumpy old vulture with a whistle, squawks, "Safe!" as the sparrow slides into a nest made of twine. In the dugout, a woodpecker with a bandage on its head bangs its beak against a metal bucket, chanting, "Peck! Peck! Peck!" The sun dips below the horizon, painting the field in gold, and the birds pause to preen their feathers - until a rogue seagull steals the ball, screeching, "Mine!")