Remember what it was like the very first time you found your perfect balance point on a two wheeled bike and the sense of freedom that jettisoned away any fear that might have lingered?  No, I mean REALLY remember, in your physical as well as mental memory?

Today I did.  I must mention that since I got off Facebook (temporarily, I’m sure) and promised to write here, I have at least one eager reader who admonished me that he was “still waiting…”  (He wrote: You haven’t posted on your blog – are you writing in the sand to watch the waves wash your words away?”   Ouch.)   My dilemma (and yet another digression – looked up the spelling of that word and found out I’m not the only person who learned to spell it with an “mn” and that – well, that’s another blog day).  My dilemma was what to write about. I’m busy.  I’m uninspired.  My blog is supposed to be about my inner thoughts, peeves, sorrows, joys blah blah blah.  I just don’t write on demand.  So my friend would have to wait.

Turns out it’s true that inspiration is all around us.

I was waiting in the park across the street for my walking pal, when from the direction of my front yard came the two doves who live with us – followed by another one.  The two doves stopped in a tree and I thought “oh boy, here we go, a dove fighting for the honor of the maiden or some such.”  The third dove just kept flying right on past the tree into the canyon and then dipped a bit and flew like mad to a tree right in front of me.  It was then I realized I was was witnessing what appeared to be a flying lesson, very possibly the very first for this little birdie.

It sat for awhile, flapping its wings like mad on the branch and then flew over in the direction of its parents and landed on the trunk of the tree, vertically, much like a woodpecker, but after flapping its wings like mad for a few seconds it flew off to another, more horizontal branch.  Then it just sat that there in what could only be described as pure birdie joy, flapping and flapping and flapping its wings.

I just sat there and replayed the scene in my mind,   The little bird, like a kid on skis the first time, overshooting where his sneaky parents had landed due to fear or inexperience and suddenly finding itself waaaaay too high over a canyon, panic setting in and then landed “whew!” on a branch safely.

It was then I remembered without any effort at all – the blue Schwinn bike (my sister’s of course) – in the backyard on the grass (easier on the skin when you fall) – the feeling of taking control over my body, my balance, the bike.  It was a panic at the sense of weightlessness, exhilaration, then bliss, accomplishment, joy, freedom.

There you go, friend.  There’s your tale – thanks for the push to open my eyes to the inspiration all around me.  And thanks little birdie, good job!  and dove parents, shame on you for laughing at your baby, I heard that!