Bold like a Bird

Today, I saw a bird on the ice.

The ice was on the water.

The ice was becoming water.

But the bird stood on the ice. Even though it was soon to be water.

Be bold like a bird.

The bird was not worried about the ice becoming water, because the bird knew that when the ice became water again, it could spread its wings and adapt to the change. It could fly away and find new ice. Or new water that once was ice. Or trees that looked down from their branches and leaves and saw that once there was ice and now there is water. And the bird could lean from its nest and glean that they would like to soar with their wings spread wide over the newly rushing water where once there was ice.

Today, I saw a bird on a wire.

And the wire was high above the Earth and attached to a pole, and the pole was strung to another pole by a wire where the bird sat perched.

The bird sat on the wire. Until another bird landed on the wire next to it. And I heard them chirp, and I wondered what those words and melodies would sound like in human until the first bird spread its wings and soared far away from the second bird who continued to remained perched not worried that it was now alone.

Be bold like a bird.

A bird does not answer questions like why does it soar. Or why does it perch. Or why does it nest. A bird follows its own flight path, and its own direction, and sometimes it chooses to fall into formation of its other bird friends, but mostly, it is just a bird. With the chance to absorb change, and to say good bye to its littles, and to find pieces of bark and wood to build homes. And in the wake of storms, the bird is able to find shelter, and new trees, and new leaves and new places to land because it is a bird.

Be bold like a bird.

I think about the bird, and the ice, and the ice that became water. The wire held high by poles dug deep into the ground, proud and strong like the tree it once was, and the trees that still stand where once it came. The trees that wait in wonder of which bird will choose them for their home.

And a bird can be strong and mighty. And a bird could be colourful and small. And a bird can learn new languages, and fly new places, and make new bird friends and mate with other birds and no one asks the bird: why are you a bird?

Be bold like a bird.

Sometimes, I wonder if it would have been simpler to have just been a bird.

Be bold. Like a bird.

— c β˜†

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