Like What Angels Will Sound Like

For 33 years I have daily sat in the quiet of the world I was in.  This morning, like many, I sit beside the great Tennessee River, smooth and quiet, a mirror for the heavens above the earth beside.  Everything is alive, the hills, the trees, green is the uniform of the day.  What I mostly see and hear in these quiet times are birds, birds of every shape, sound, size, and color.  I like the fact that birds are plentiful, makes for good measure of things, birds fly and that is one of the greatest magic tricks of all time.  They always fly in ways that proclaim their magic, that they can, not proudly, but happy that they are special in this way.  They glide, and flitter; they swoop, dart and soar, their cool about it, self-assured, confident, but kind.  At times a flock of waterfowl will fly just overhead and I can hear the sound of their wings pushing the air aside, like what angels will sound like.  Just now a helicopter flew over and I smiled because it sounded like what a cow would sound like if it could fly.  I like flying, was writing about it this morning but that helicopter just reminded me, we aren’t cool at it.