flight

i watch the birds – crows and gulls, mostly, but also that striking black and white one whose name i do not know – i watch them in the air on these windy days; how the gusts and gales push them about faster, slower, up, down, sideways, even backwards, wreaking havoc on their usually graceful flight. i imagine what it might feel like, this experience of surrendering to the powerful, unpredictable wind.

Do they find it frustrating because it only serves to make their hunt for food more difficult? Or do they choose to take wing just for the fun of it? Do they fly only because they have to, or also because they want to?

Do birds feel joy?

Flying on a day like this seems like it would be so much more exciting than on a calm day...more exhilarating, requiring more skill and awareness. It's hard to believe they do it purely out of necessity, because they make such graceful patterns in the sky, rarely seeming to have a destination. Do they know that they are beautiful?

seeing them soar always makes me wish i could fly, but instead i just watch and imagine...can i live my earth-bound life with the same kind of grace, joy, and dependency on god's wind-spirit? time to practice being a bird...