Not long ago, I spotted this beautiful pheasant racing across a trail into a field. Seeing him reminded me of an experience I had in the woods a while back.
It was a quiet and peaceful afternoon in the forest. I was crouched down taking a picture of some mushrooms when I heard a squeal. A young girl came racing down the hill, and I quickly stepped out of the way so she could pass. Her bright pink polka-dotted raincoat was a blur. I suspect that she didn’t even see me as she flew by.
Not far behind was her father, moving quickly to keep up with his energetic daughter. As he passed me, we exchanged knowing smiles. We both knew that the spirit of wildness had captured the girl, and there was no stopping her. She was pure joy in motion.
As I headed home later, I thought about the father and daughter. As the girl raced down the hill, her father didn’t caution her to be careful or to slow down or to stop. He simply let her be herself as he supported her wild moment in the woods. I was so touched by this man's devotion to his daughter.
And what a precious gift he gave his daughter that day.
Permission to fly...
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