Over the past weeks, I’ve been visiting a group of goslings on the shore of Puget Sound. Watching their wing stubs grow has made me feel both jealousy and awe. The goslings have grown from looking like awkward dust bunnies under my bed into very hungry little geese.
Their wing stubs look so truncated and odd, so unfinished. Yet, one day they will transform into beautiful feathered wings. One day the goslings will lift those wings and fly. Meanwhile, they swim and eat and grow—all in the hope of wings, the hope of one day soaring into the wondrous blue.
I am jealous because I compare my own raw shoulder blades –stubs that will never transform into wings. And then I laugh at myself. The wings don’t matter. It’s the hope of them that does--my reaching, my aspiring, my lifting toward all that is beautiful and wondrous in this life.
LORE OF THE BELL:
Soar toward beauty and the bells will ring.
Note: Next week I'll be on vacation. Listen for the 7:30 Bells again on 6/25/13