Centennial Trail: mile marker 13 - 11It seems that Ginger and I have something in common.
Apparently, we both wish we were birds. Who'd have thought?
I've always wished I could fly.
Kind of ironic given how much I don't like to get on an airplane. Watching birds fills me with a sense of jealous admiration and appreciation. Nothing delights me more than watching the seemingly impossible aerial maneuvers of the hummingbirds that visit my feeders. My summer hawk family treated me to displays of power and strength as they effortlessly soared through and above our backyard trees. On my run Friday, a blue heron glided in slowly to land on the shore of the river right in front of me and minutes later two golden pheasants flew just above the wheat-colored weeds alongside us as we ran. I wish my eyes were a camera so I could have included these visual images for you.
Maybe my running is my feeble attempt to take flight. I have a visual picture of a possible painting in mind as I run...a runner surrounded by birds in flight, one shoe above the ground, the other...maybe or maybe not touching the ground. I've even dreamed numerous times since childhood about discovering I could fly. For now running will have to do.
After our Friday run, Sprecka and I took a couple of pictures and even stopped to sketch the islands in the Spokane River at the trail head at mile 13. Another glorious day to be treasured and remembered through the cold winter ahead. I wonder if I would appreciate it so much if I didn't have the winter to serve as a contrast?
And what about Ginger, you ask? What bird yearnings does she hold? Well that's ironic too considering how much Ginger hates her baths. Norm and I were working in our beautiful new yard, when Ginger decided to climb into the natural birdbath. A little awkward, but apparently comfortable enough.
That's one big bird!
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