I get so much pleasure from watching the swallows fly. They are the tiny Top Gun pilots of the bird world, carrying out airshow manouevres all over the place.
They loop, they whirl, they spin.
They glide low down, up high.
They perform perfect chandelles with an enviable lack of effort.
Once I even saw a group of them in flight formation carry out an Immelman turn.
(An Immelman turn is where a plane rolls at the apex, moves one hundred degrees to the right then pulls away.)
What must it be like?
They are at once tethered and free from the clouds.
They see the land drift and the sun flit through pockets of wind.
They live completely in the moment.
Now. Right now. The free wheelin’, heart soarin’ joy of the moment.
That’s all that matters.
Being deep in the glory of the world. Of the sky.
How is it that such tiny creatures have so much wisdom to impart?