As I walk along the curvy road leading to my favorite path, a dandelion fluff floats by, crossing my nose. The breeze grows a little stronger and I watch the fluff as it floats higher and higher, wondering what it must be like to ride the wind.
I pause in my tracks. I imagine I am the fluff, closing my eyes. Suddenly, I am floating on the wind, rising above the tree tops — whirling, swirling, gliding, with no real control as to my direction or final destination. This is what freedom feels like.
Where will I land?
Who or what will I encounter?
The wind takes a turn and I have no choice but to follow —whirling, swirling, gliding downward, I land in a small meadow and cling to the grass. Will the wind sweep me up again? I wait . . . and wonder.
A rabbit hops by and nibbles on some near-by clover. He sniffs me, turns, and stamps his feet. Yes, this is my resting place. Time to dig in.
So beautiful!