Monday 27 April 2009

Learning to fly



Sometimes I have a germ of an idea that rolls along and becomes something I can write about; writing puts flesh on the bones of the thought and often doesn't appear until the pen meets the paper. Most of my musings escape before I can rope then, lost in the mystical ether (just thought I would call it that, sounds better than fog). I seem to have a small cache/ memory, a train of events begin and before I am 3-4 carriages down, I have forgotten how I started (brother Cyril, we have more in common than I thought). So I have this little notebook of jottings and ideas; mostly for the book, which is going very slowly.

Sunday early morning and I was watching two blackbirds chasing each other over rooftops and fences. Their world exists of lampposts and aerials, chimneys and treetops; gravity for them is not an issue, they have no need of it. A bird of the air is in its element, I on the other hand am grounded on terra firma and gaze in wonder at effortless flight. Where is my element, in what do I shine? For mankind our element should be our capacity to love, but it seems the enemy is keeping this secret hidden..

Note to morning office: learning to fly requires stepping off some high point.
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4 comments:

awareness said...

I'm unfurling my wings..... :)

ps. Your photo reminds me of Jemima Puddle Duck.

J Pearson said...

Go on Dana... You can fly.

A Greylag goose, but her name may well be Jemima! They have an amazing honking sound...

Gilly said...

Note to morning office: learning to fly requires stepping off some high point.

Please don't try this at home boys! ;)

Seriously, yes, you are right. I'm always looking for a safety net, even supposing I can get to the high point in the first place!

Lovely goose!

J Pearson said...

Gilly; thanks for the health & safety reminder.
I believe it is the eagle that takes it's young (on it's back) up high and tips it off; if it doesn't fly, the parent will catch it and take it up again..