Bird fly. And they fly. They fly when they wish to fly. And sometimes when they don’t. They fly when they are looking for food. And sometimes when they sense that they may be the food. They fly when it’s time to go home. And sometimes when it is time to leave home. They fly to show love. And sometimes to display anger.
They may fly with a frenetic flapping of their wings. Or with a more measured and gentle beat. Some may take a running start to their flight. And for some it is a leap of faith.
Basically, they fly because they can. Because they know no other way. But here is the lovely thing about their flight – there is nothing twisted, evil and malicious about it. There is so much beauty in this reflex action, their second nature, that there is great pleasure in watching this flight. Regardless of which bird it is that is flying. And regardless of why.