Easter at my church, above. Celebrating and embracing life and grace, below...
"The mockingbird took a single step into the air and dropped.
His wings
were still folded against his sides as though he were singing from a
limb and not falling, accelerating thirty-two feet per second per
second, through empty air.
Just a breath before he would have been
dashed to the ground, he unfurled his wings with exact, deliberate care,
revealing the broad bars of white, spread his elegant, white-banded
tail, and so floated onto the grass.
I had just rounded a corner when
his incouciant step caught my eye; there was no one else in sight. The
fact of his free fall was like the old philosophical conundrum about the
tree that falls in the forest.
The answer must be, I think, that beauty
and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least
we can do is try to be there."