Flying Storks | Beauty of Birds

Summer was drawing to a close. The storks fledged, straightened, stood on their feet and gradually began to learn to fly.

The stork pushed them with their strong beaks, driving them out of the nest, and when the chick fell off the roof, its large white wings with black tips instinctively opened up, which it still waved clumsily, hastily, frightenedly, trying to stay in the air.

Having described a small semicircle near the roof, he hurried to lower himself into the nest and, standing on his feet, threw his head with a long neck on his back and loudly cracked his beak cheerfully, rejoicing at this wonderful possibility of air movement that had opened up in him, this great miracle, his white, beautiful, wide wings.

Storks appeared in the nest. These naked, ugly chicks with long beaks lay helplessly, unable to stand on their thin weak legs.

They were always hungry and insistently demanded food, not stopping for a minute and not getting tired of constantly opening their yellow beaks.

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