We see birds and assume they’re always on their way somewhere. We’re trained to think that movement must be related to a destination, a journey, an end goal. But I saw a bird today who was just flying. Flying in circles with no destination in mind, but enjoying having it’s wings out, soaring, loving the wind, embracing the view.
I just watched.
Waiting to see if it were going to land. If it were going to take off in one direction. I needed to know how such a free bird thinks. Then I laughed at myself thinking, ‘what makes this bird any better than the rest? Why is this bird free and the others weren’t?’ In my mind, this bird was different.
She was flying solo, in no direction, enjoying earth and what seems to be the time of her life. She wasn’t actually flying in circles, just soaring at different heights but keeping the same rhythm. She had no where to go and even if she did she didn’t care because she needed to spread her wings. She needed to fly. She needed to show herself that she was free and flying, even if some girl was looking out the window watching, she didn’t care.
She was flying. She was free. She was doing what she does best: Spreading her wings. She looked like a pro at freedom, I know all birds fly but she was flying like it was something only she could do. I didn’t see any other birds, and neither did she. She flew like she was the only bird in the sky. And right then, she was. She really was.
I looked for as long as I could and eventually walked away. I started to feel like I was intruding on her freedom.
There I was, watching from a window, admiring the beauty of a bird flying freely outside, as if this was something new or different.
But for me, it was. Because for the first time, I know what it’s like to be a bird on the wrong side of the window. . .