As Sunlight and Feathers Collide

I learned to hug without touching while my country was grounded.

I notice it now in the smallest of things.The red bird, a staple on the feeder in my side yard, was once spotted as a mere blur in my perphiral during the morning hustle.

Today, as I am released back into society to resume "normal" activity, my gait is slower, more deliberate. My gaze meets the red bird's head-on, and I marvel at the vibrancy of color that bursts forth as sunlight and feathers collide.

Behind me, I hear my daughter's car engine rev to life, preparing to transport her away from the virtual classroom that has become her new normal. I shift my gaze from the wings of the red bird to the invisible wings of my newly- adult child. She will be leaving soon. She arrived in the world as US soil was still shaking from the tremors of terrorism, and she will be flying the nest as the ground still shakes from the pandemonium of a pandemic.

What have I learned? I have learned that 'shortness of breath' is more than just a symptom of a virus that has sheltered the world. It is a by-product of the hustle and bustle that many are so eager to return to.

The world's cities, communities, and neighborhood streets have now received a steady infusion of mediation, yoga, and prayer, and We the People have never breathed so deep.