Down By the Old Swoop & Roost

Just when I say I'll get a new lens to look through (in the hopes of seeing something new) a bird (a big one with a 6-foot wingspan) swoops out of nowhere (o.k. - swoops down from the snag I walk by every a.m.) and squawks in my face:

     "It's like this, little chicken; you'll see what I tell you to see now I've got you on my obstacle course. You won't have much skin left on your knees once we're finished, but your character will be scrubbed clean. Laugh and don't look back. This here's Initiation Time."

Fine. One foot in front of the other. No expectations, no attachments, no memories bobbing in soft golden light to offer me comfort. Who am I to pass up the chance to be pushed around by a large, winged creature? There are, after all, more painful ways to test one's faith.