Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • There is always one.

    The one who doesn't fit in and impresses me by virtue of his weirdness. I stop my walking to watch and listen, to see what happens next and speculate on what he's thinking inside that little bird brain.

    He won't fly when the others fly, or then might disappear from the group for no reason at all. This creates all sorts of mayhem among the flock who like to do things, all birdy things - pecking, picking, preening, prancing - together.

    Instead he stands alone and stares. Looks out on the horizon, thinking of bigger skies, taller trees, crisper air in which he might take flight. He dreams of flying high and alone, getter a clearer perspective on things. The noise of this flock irritates him.

    An eagle in seagull's clothing.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.