Flying Free

Maybe it's just the angle of the light this morning, or the way my chair is facing on the deck, but whatever it is, I'm seeing more clearly the limbs and branches that need pruning, the deadwood.

It's no surprise the oaks need a trim. They're old and tired, some of them just hanging on. They would be much happier if they were lighter, leaner — shorn. Wouldn't we all? And isn't so much of life about finding the balance between heavy and light, rooted and free.

As I write these words a male cardinal lands on the browning stem of a day lily plant, which seems too slender to support the weight of a goldfinch, let alone this summer-plumped bird. But the stem holds, dips gently, then rises again. The cardinal pauses, fluffs his feathers, then flies away. Oh to have that kind of trust, that kind of lightness.