There once was a woman named Julie.
She got grumpy with people’s tomfoolery.
To the river she ran,
Rocks and pebbles in hand.
To find birds acting peculiarly.
Today seemed just made for some foot stomping and irritated pouting, so rather than let the ball of frustration choke me, I headed to the river to sit on a rock – and with the prompting of my friend, Kaylea, to throw rocks. And that was my plan…aggressively throw rocks until I beat away the grumpies. But then I got to the river, found the perfect unpooped on sitting boulder and proceeded to be amazed as two geese came zooming in from my right to absolutely and beautifully skid to a stop on the water directly in front of me. The perfection and the timing and the lighting and the way the sun sparkled off the spatter took my breath away and I never even thought to pick up a rock after that. I am certain I must have intently watched ducks and geese at some point in my life, but their ducking and bobbing and chasing and take offs and skidding had me completely mesmerized today. The longer I watched their odd ways the more I realized it wasn’t odd to them at all, they just were the way they were. Just birds doing their thing. My people…they’re just people doing their thing, too.
I needed to be reminded of that.