Me in my steel contraption came upon Tiny Bird crossing the highway, not flying, but walking on bitty feet, step by step.
It must have seemed an endless journey to Tiny Bird, or he was focused elsewhere, not on the distance required to get from one side to the other. How wise.
I slowed. Prayed fast. Marveled. Sang while he walked. Isn’t it wonderful how the Universe orchestrates our perfect arrival?
Sure enough, a mighty truck wind fluffed Tiny Bird ditch-ward after his final step. Umpire yelled: Home run! Safe!
But tell me please, why (on earth) was he walking?