During my trip to the Sierra Nevada mountains, I took lots of bird photos – my own version of Zen meditation. I went through the pictures and deleted all the blurry ones, as well as the ones where I completely missed the bird; I don’t keep photos of empty branches anymore, no matter how interesting they are. I have some great shots of brilliant blue Stellar Jays, a majestic Peregrine Falcon, and intricately winged dragon flies, but somehow this one is my absolute favorite.
I don’t even know what species of bird this is. When I finish writing about him, I’ll try and figure it out with my bird books, but right now I think the point is that he is species unknown. I relate; I often don’t know what I am.
Also, this guy looks kind of not-ready-for-prime-time; his tummy feathers are wet and messy, he’s standing kind of awkwardly, and his wings are completely hidden behind his back so that he looks less like a bird and more like a Weeble with really skinny legs. I so often feel like I’m a wet mess out in the world, with an awkward stance and a strange appearance – not even remotely ready for prime time.
And yet, he’s looking right at the camera, curious and ready to face whatever is going on with this human and her strange device. That’s how I want to walk through the world: curious and ready to face what’s going on, no matter how lost I feel or unprepared I may be.
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