When I leave work
in the evenings, my car seems as eager as I to get home. I rarely stop, except
to fill up the gas tank and I don’t dally on the way. For one, I can’t wait to
see my son, to pet my cats and to relax in my newly refurbished living room,
but I also hurry each day, so I don’t miss The Event.
Each and every evening, between six forty and six forty-five, as I drive toward the setting sun, The Event takes place on the highway. My sun glasses mellow the golden sky to a fiery golden-red and against its glorious backdrop, hundreds of birds sail high above the tall East Texas pine trees across the highway in front of me. They fly in V-shaped flocks or in disorderly multi-flock swarms and they all fly at the same unhurried speed, light-winged as if floating on a stream of water. Each day, I ambition to count them, but give up after the first few flocks. And each day, I drive, spellbound, into the glowing sunset.
How is it that those birds know time? Do they travel by a secret schedule? Or do they simply wait until they spot my little gray MINI Cooper before taking to wing? Perhaps they swarm to honor some avian deity and paint the sky with their tiny wings. Or perhaps they greet the sun with their graceful dance.
The truth is probably much more prosaic, but it doesn’t take away from the splendor of The Event. They fly from feeding grounds to nesting grounds, where they sleep, perhaps on an island, heads tucked under wings and safe from predators. A change in the light conditions of the sky most likely triggers their migration and I just happen to pass through at exactly the right time every evening. Yet even in their mundane pursuits, the birds teach us something. As ordinary as our lives are, nothing keeps us from creating our own Event each day. Nothing prevents us from turning humdrum into inspirational, if only we open our eyes and hearts.
If we do all things with beauty and grace – not the commercial beauty that’s sold on TV and in department stores , but the true, long-lived grace of a magnificent soul; if we inspire with kindness our friends, family and co-workers, if we arrange our homes and lives thoughtfully, if we treat strangers with compassion, children and animals with love, and if over all our actions, a glorious sun-kissed disposition rules, we cannot help but bring beauty into our own lives as well.
Each small, insignificant bird covers only one inch of sky, but together, they form a painting that takes my breath away. If, like the birds, we humans weave together our color-rich fabric of experience and goodwill, we too can create such a painting. If we all step up to the challenge, some day, we will ourselves be The Event.
Each and every evening, between six forty and six forty-five, as I drive toward the setting sun, The Event takes place on the highway. My sun glasses mellow the golden sky to a fiery golden-red and against its glorious backdrop, hundreds of birds sail high above the tall East Texas pine trees across the highway in front of me. They fly in V-shaped flocks or in disorderly multi-flock swarms and they all fly at the same unhurried speed, light-winged as if floating on a stream of water. Each day, I ambition to count them, but give up after the first few flocks. And each day, I drive, spellbound, into the glowing sunset.
How is it that those birds know time? Do they travel by a secret schedule? Or do they simply wait until they spot my little gray MINI Cooper before taking to wing? Perhaps they swarm to honor some avian deity and paint the sky with their tiny wings. Or perhaps they greet the sun with their graceful dance.
The truth is probably much more prosaic, but it doesn’t take away from the splendor of The Event. They fly from feeding grounds to nesting grounds, where they sleep, perhaps on an island, heads tucked under wings and safe from predators. A change in the light conditions of the sky most likely triggers their migration and I just happen to pass through at exactly the right time every evening. Yet even in their mundane pursuits, the birds teach us something. As ordinary as our lives are, nothing keeps us from creating our own Event each day. Nothing prevents us from turning humdrum into inspirational, if only we open our eyes and hearts.
If we do all things with beauty and grace – not the commercial beauty that’s sold on TV and in department stores , but the true, long-lived grace of a magnificent soul; if we inspire with kindness our friends, family and co-workers, if we arrange our homes and lives thoughtfully, if we treat strangers with compassion, children and animals with love, and if over all our actions, a glorious sun-kissed disposition rules, we cannot help but bring beauty into our own lives as well.
Each small, insignificant bird covers only one inch of sky, but together, they form a painting that takes my breath away. If, like the birds, we humans weave together our color-rich fabric of experience and goodwill, we too can create such a painting. If we all step up to the challenge, some day, we will ourselves be The Event.
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