Flitting

One clear star hung over the orchard and the fireflies were flitting over in Lover's Lane, in and out among the ferns and rustling boughs.

The pale moon, which had hitherto been contending with flitting clouds, now shone out, and gave them a view of the solitary and naked tower.

It was true that the birds were everywhere! little greenish birds flitting among the trees; larger grey-brown birds flying low; fairy-like blue and yellow birds that circled round the car as it ran east towards the far, looming mountains of the Djurdjura; larks that spouted music like a fountain of jewels as they soared into the quivering blue; and great, stately storks, sitting in their nests on tall trees or tops of poles, silhouetted against the sky as they gazed indifferently down at the automobile.

Behind him on the plain he could hear the eternally young people playing about their little blue lake, flitting like gay shadows through the tamarisks and calling to each other in clear elfin voices while they frolicked after the fluttering swarms of great, bright-hued moths.

Large bird-like butterflies gracefully flitting down the long corridors between the pines, and myriads of jumping mantises and grasshoppers suggest that it is not November.

There are some things about which I am pondering: Is the potential threat of Artificial Intelligence to humanity just "geek anxiety" or is it real? Is chat with AI like an oracle with psychic influence? There is some "dice-rolling" in the way the AI makes sentences in whatever language. Will AGI or Artificial General Intelligence have psychic attributes, as do some humans? Will a "soul" exist in intelligent machines? I have recollections as a boy: I stirred powdered chocolate in a cup, and the moving powder on the water I imagined to be plate tectonics. I swooped my hand or paper plane in a lush tropical garden and over misty horizontal freezers, as I imagined my hand or paper plane to be a flitting spaceship over an alien planet.

the flittings of birds

After the flitting of the bats, / When thickest dark did trance the sky, / She drew the casement-curtain by, / And glanced athwart the glooming flats.

The hare lends its form to the witch for her twilight flittings and scuddings to the place of some unhallowed rendezvous.

Uncle Billy came home for the weekend to help with the flitting.