33
Close Reading of Contemporary Literature
“The Great Scarf of Birds”
by John Updike
Playing golf on Cape Ann in October
I saw something to remember.
Ripe apples were caught like red sh in the nets
of their branches. e maples
were colored like apples, (5)
part orange and red, part green.
e elms, already transparent trees,
seemed swaying vases full of sky. e sky
was dramatic with great straggling V’s
of geese streaming south, mare’s-tails above them. (10)
eir trumpeting made us look up and around.
e course sloped into salt marshes,
and this seemed to cause the abundance of birds.
As if out of the Bible
or science ction, (15)
a cloud appeared, a cloud of dots
like iron lings which a magnet
underneath the paper undulates.
It dartingly darkened in spots,
paled, pulsed compressed, distended, yet (20)
held an identity rm: a ock
of starlings, as much one thing as a rock
One will moved above the trees
the liquid and hesitant dri.
Come nearer, it became less marvelous, (25)
more legible, and merely huge.
“I never saw so many birds!” my friend exclaimed.
We returned our eyes to the game.
Later, as Lot’s wife must have done,
in a pause of walking, not thinking (30)
of calling down a consequence,
I lazily looked around.
e rise of the fairway above us was tinted,
so evenly tinted I might not have noticed
but that at the rim of the delicate shadow (35)
the starlings were thicker and outlined the ock
as an inkstain in drying pronounces its edges.
e gradual rise of green was vastly covered;
I had thought nothing in nature could be so broad
but grass. (40)
And as
I watched, one bird,
prompted by accident or will to lead,
ceased resting; and, liing in a casual billow,
the ock ascended as a lady’s scarf, (45)
transparent, of gray, might be twitched
by one corner, drawn upward and then,
decided against, negligently tossed toward a chair:
the southward cloud withdrew into the air.
Long had it been since my heart (50)
had been lied as it was by the liing of that great
scarf.