Snow! That small speck of white landed on my beak, so close that I swear I could see the matrices of pattern on that tiny structure. Amazing design by the Creator of all creatures! As I perched on the edge of the wooden barrier, watching the horses gallop around their limited habitat, the air took a sudden dip in temperature. Near freezing, I thought, as I adjusted my wings to snuggle position. Ah… Warmer…
Freedoma has described to me her imagined habitat, where she could gallop without boundaries. I really admire her positivity. Compared to her, the sky’s the limit for me. I fly wherever my wings would take me, with the wind rushing against my feathered head, I was the epitomy of freedom that juxtaposted the limited life that Freedoma had. Well.. Probably she was named that to create an impression of the ideal state she could never reach in real life. Well… At least for now till we get to Creatures Heaven anyway, where all will be free, where no animals will hunt another.
The snow came in more frequency now. My head was feeling a layer build up on the top. Managed to shake it off, which was soon replaced by another layer of cold. The wind was picking up speed. Was kind of dangerous for me to try to flap to the nearest tree. Might get blown against a hard surface & it will spell even more trouble for me – broken wings. Freedoma & the rest of the horses have now been shooed into the horse house by the human female. And so my hope of being sheltered by them is also gone.
I remembered something my Mama taught me: to brave through the storm, sometimes the best thing to do is to stay put, stay calm & stay warm as you can. My feathers should get me through. I just need to stay still. If possible, inch my way down slowly, to the little corner ledge just right below me. Should be sheltered a little.
As the storm beat against my beak, I curled my head into my chest. As I listened to the howling wind screeching at the tree branches, as if warning them to get out of its passage, I thought about the storm in me.
I had left what was known as home, to seek a new place, a new way of life. The conditioned logic told me it was never possible, My bones were too old to be agile enough to withstand the long journeys. An explorer I was since I was a little chick, from the moment I remembered taking to the air, I have actually flown to faraway places, sometimes for so long that my Mama told neighbours that I probably have been eaten by an eagle.
My usual patrolling buddies wondered if it was cos I’ve gone mad – to just leave what I have known for the good part of my short life, “Going for an unknown paradise, which you don’t even know exists.” I did take a step back & wondered if I was, as diagnosed by Dr Wonky Sparrow, going through a mid-sparrow-life crisis. Apparently you get nastily restless & want to throw away everything you’ve known for so long.
Personally, I think it is me wanting to be honest with my wandering heart – heart that desires to be boundariless, true to self, free.
And so, I will stand still in this storm. Actually, both storms. Storms will pass, as Mama has always said. Just stick to your journey routes, stand still in the storm, survive bravely, then move to the next destination enroute your final one.
I will be there, soon enough.
Destination True Freedom.