Soaring…

Twas outside on smoke break the other day…. Up in the air about a thousand feet… a hawk.. Soaring.. So smooth… so effortlessly.. Gliding.. Ne’er a wing movement.. It was pretty awesome….

“That’s a male hawk,“ said my know-it-all buddy, “it’s tips are colored.” Uh huh, I let on. About then, an 18-wheeler thundered down our road.. He leaned his head back and said “ahhhh, music to my ears… I’ll never tire of that sound.” He’d worked in and around and for and sold, big rigs. “Nomme” I countered.. “it’s the sound of a bat, be it wood or aluminum, hitting a baseball that I’ll never tire of.” We each soared with what we loved. And it’s ok. Different stuff for different folks. Or, as my mother always said after her massive stroke at age 58 “different strokes for different folks.”

Earlier today - I went to a dance recital. I am a great uncle. Well, not what you’re thinking. Don’t mean as in wonderful, I mean it was my great niece and great nephew that did the dancing…It and they were pretty cool. So many different costumes, beats, gyrations, sizes, shapes, ages. Always seemed though, just about one in each group stood out. I’m pretty picky - there were even some groups that didn’t have one. The very best was this little high school aged gal. She wasn’t necessarily ultra-attractive.. She actually even, was a tad on the chunky side.. Ohhh but she rocked.. The music moved thru her.. It actually didn’t appear it was the eyeballs on her that perked her - it was the performing, feeling, moving, gliding, soaring that was it. She was like a hawk 1000 feet up..

Adjacent to this fine stage, there was the football field where the district track meet was going off… It’d been many a moon since I’d been to onea these.. So I wondered over.. Only gotta see one event - the 110 meter hurdles… gun sounded.. Immediately outta the blocks this one kid led.. Smooth.. Effortlessly.. As he glided over each hurdle, his lead lengthened.. Good lookin’ kid, happened to be black.. Broad grin as he soared thru the winning tape… Soaring..

Adjacent to my hometown, this town also happened to be home to a gal I’d soared with one very special day in my life.. So I drove by her house.. I’m a realist, as is she, and we both know I’m hella too old to soar forever.. Nonetheless, I pulled in behind her car.. Never mustered the gumption to get out and knock…Tis ok, mems of soaring..

Turned down the county road home, versus the hustle-bustle way.. Went past the cemetery where my grandfather is buried.. Next to it a pond.. My ex next door neighbor and I once fished there.. My buddy Gene caught a 4+ pound bass.. The look on his face.. He was soaring.. The fish now ‘lives’ mounted on his wall…

Seen ma good friends Tom and Mona the other night.. They’re always, I mean always, happy. Married umpteen years.. He, worked his way up in the huge chemical company he works for, she, recently retired from a career of teaching.. Everyone loves them.. They’re currently doting on their first grandchild.. They’ve soared for a long, long, time. Not long ago, I told Tom all of
the above - and that I thought it was remarkable the happiness they have for life, their friends, for each other. Tom simply replied “I’m blessed, and I know it.” He soars. They’re soaring.

Again, we all soar to different things.. Could be that bigass new house.. Could be a fancified new car.. Could be a lake house.. Making money.. Having fun… reading.. Sewing.. Camping.. Cooking.. Working.. Playing.. Could be Jeff Gordon, Alex Gordon, Luciano Pavoratti, sailing, sometimes, even doing nothing is soaring..

Life truly is a roller coaster.. We all soar at times… Effortlessly. Happily. We glide. We soar. Soaring. Soaring doesn’t really have to be about money. Sex. Of being important. It’s about gliding. Apparently effortlessly. Feeling it. Letting the music of life go thru us.

When we find ourselves laden on the grassy knoll… look for one, something, soaring. Smile about it. Close your eyes and be it. Them. That. Soon, we’ll all be soaring again. Happy skies, love, Victurd.