Rescued from my self-absorption I heard a sound, as if I was in my garden at home. It couldn't be? It sounded like robins, sparrows, white-eyes? "This far from land?" I ask myself- "impossible". Just then I saw a little sparrow swoop down and catch a fly, then another little bird, and then another. Like miniature hawks, equally brave and fearless, they swooped and dived, fattening up on the dark cloud of flies. Then I noticed a small olive bird fluttering towards us across the deep grey ocean, no bigger than a Ping-Pong ball. She seemed so delicate, so fragile, I marveled imagining how her tiny wings got her out this far. She was so brave, confident as she arrived, and quickly made the flies zip around in fear. She was a force to be reckoned with.
I went outside to get a closer look, and to try take a photograph. I admired her bravery; she didn't even fear me (which I admit didn't take much I was pathetic sight – a fragile broken man, afraid of his own heartache). There was no time to mope; I stayed close to the action. Suddenly she flew right over me, and landed on my head. For a brief moment, I felt her subtle almost indiscernible weight; I stood tall, feeling immensely proud to have such courage to wear like a crown, even if it belonged to someone else.