They encounter spiders, cars, parking lots at dawn, hosts that eat them, ... Just flying is a dangerous thing.

We slept in Central Park, which is no mean feat- we got there and it was almost dawn when we went to sleep.

Moon, worn thin to the width of a quill,/ In the dawn clouds flying,/ How good to go, light into light, and still/ Giving light, dying.

If get a jump right, there's a feeling of flying.

It comes down to what the rainfall patterns are,

Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark.