Freedom, A Choice

When I was young I used to think how lovely it must be to be a bird. To have wings to take you wherever you want to go, to soar the skies, fly away from your woes, seeking happiness in far off places.

As I grew older I began to feel sorry for birds when a storm was brewing. Would the birds be able to seek shelter from the storm? What about the baby birds, would they be able to survive the cold and the rain?

To this day I love to hear the chirping of the birds in the early morning. The joyful optimism they have as they take each day as it comes.

I now know that birds face hardships too.

I am not a bird, but I too, can be free.