feathered joy

There’s something about interactions with wild creatures that never ceases to lead my feet to skip and overwhelms my whole being with a smile. Maybe it’s a nod to my simple childhood – surrounded by animals that were consistent with their presence and love, never demanding much in return. And me, eager to bring the injured ones home to nurse and rescue – be they rabid or not. Or perhaps it’s just a fleeting glimpse of something so free and primitive that sets me aflutter.

I remember asking J on a cycle trip through the mountains ‘what sort of animal would you be you if you could be anything?’ We tossed around various fantasies – from dolphins to cheetahs and dogs. Each option helping us shift focus from the ever climbing altitude. But for me, I couldn’t get past the bird. To experience the Joy of flight – swooping with grace, dancing with the wind and  landing with ease – it feels like a dream I wouldn’t want to end.

And of course, one bird in particular lands above all others. A kingfisher with a  name that gives away her joyful spirit. How could you not laugh along with JOY?!

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