Klek klek klek klek
Stork luck breaks down like this: You see a stork fly, you have good luck. You see a stork walk, you have bad luck. You see a stork nest, you begin to collect your own sticks.
This morning, when a big invisible stage manager parted fat clouds and pushed the sun through the space, I looked out the window and saw seven storks find an up-spiral. They did not move their wings, but rose bill to tail on their own good luck.