09-04-2021, 12:20 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-04-2021, 05:41 PM by allbetsonjames. Edited 2 times in total.)
(590 words)
As a child, my parents enjoyed taking the family on vacations requiring a pseudo road trip. Pseudo, in that the destinations we travelled towards were at that sweet spot where taking a plane would have felt unnecessary, but a drive felt cumbersome after hour 4. However, with these road trips, we always arrived right as felt we were ready to arrive.
On these long drives, the lonely open California roads offered few visual treats. Except, of course, for birds. Flocks of avian creatures were captivating. Have you ever seen a murmuration? Sheets of black static overlapping and folding within itself as deafening dots beautifully dance? There is nothing like it.
In stark contrast, a simple Flying V was just as beautiful and interesting to my child’s eye. I would imagine the daddy bird in front, guiding its family towards home while my dad drove the car. It wasn’t hard to think of the younger birds in the back of the V following their elders and how I too someday would have to take the wheel.
But not all birds fly together. Some fly alone. Just as the growing rumble of a passing motorcycle forced my head to instinctively turn and look for the source of the noise, the largest solitary birds hunting for prey demanded my attention once noticed. Great Hawks, flying purposefully in what appeared to be aimless, but were actually planned rhythmic circles, felt to me to be the alpha-being closest to heaven. With wide wingspans, lightning agility, and vision similar to the elves I read about under bedsheets with a flashlight at night, these hawks represented both terror and glory. With their size and commanding presence, I might see one 3 or 5 miles in the distance and my eyes would be glued to them even when they became specks 5 miles away from our car’s back window.
I guess all of this is to say is that sometimes the journey was just as exciting as the destination. And in that watching these birds, I saw qualities I might hope to develop within myself. As a DE on the edge of the V of the Minnesota Grey Ducks I found a family, success, and a direction towards greatness. With a community driven towards success I’ve become a better player and a better community member. I’m not at the front of that V just yet but at least I’m not straggling behind, listless, or inactive.
Solitude is a word which scares some while it enlightens others. I believe those hawks which mesmerized me as a child are among the freest beings on earth with their solitude. And so, I reflect on the moments I dive bomb pass the offensive lineman, the brief seconds where only turf stands between me and the QB, in which I must be the hawk who strikes prey with lightning agility. There is also the solitude of being the first overall pick. The lone man at the top of the mountain. And yet, I feel privilege and humility that from such heights I might perform and inspire others to do better than I might do, just as I am inspired by those who have come before me.
I have been with this league for a short time. These seasons are a strange length in how they last just long enough to end right as we feel they are ready to end. I’m not sure where future seasons will lead but I know that I cannot wait to see what we experience along the way.
As a child, my parents enjoyed taking the family on vacations requiring a pseudo road trip. Pseudo, in that the destinations we travelled towards were at that sweet spot where taking a plane would have felt unnecessary, but a drive felt cumbersome after hour 4. However, with these road trips, we always arrived right as felt we were ready to arrive.
On these long drives, the lonely open California roads offered few visual treats. Except, of course, for birds. Flocks of avian creatures were captivating. Have you ever seen a murmuration? Sheets of black static overlapping and folding within itself as deafening dots beautifully dance? There is nothing like it.
In stark contrast, a simple Flying V was just as beautiful and interesting to my child’s eye. I would imagine the daddy bird in front, guiding its family towards home while my dad drove the car. It wasn’t hard to think of the younger birds in the back of the V following their elders and how I too someday would have to take the wheel.
But not all birds fly together. Some fly alone. Just as the growing rumble of a passing motorcycle forced my head to instinctively turn and look for the source of the noise, the largest solitary birds hunting for prey demanded my attention once noticed. Great Hawks, flying purposefully in what appeared to be aimless, but were actually planned rhythmic circles, felt to me to be the alpha-being closest to heaven. With wide wingspans, lightning agility, and vision similar to the elves I read about under bedsheets with a flashlight at night, these hawks represented both terror and glory. With their size and commanding presence, I might see one 3 or 5 miles in the distance and my eyes would be glued to them even when they became specks 5 miles away from our car’s back window.
I guess all of this is to say is that sometimes the journey was just as exciting as the destination. And in that watching these birds, I saw qualities I might hope to develop within myself. As a DE on the edge of the V of the Minnesota Grey Ducks I found a family, success, and a direction towards greatness. With a community driven towards success I’ve become a better player and a better community member. I’m not at the front of that V just yet but at least I’m not straggling behind, listless, or inactive.
Solitude is a word which scares some while it enlightens others. I believe those hawks which mesmerized me as a child are among the freest beings on earth with their solitude. And so, I reflect on the moments I dive bomb pass the offensive lineman, the brief seconds where only turf stands between me and the QB, in which I must be the hawk who strikes prey with lightning agility. There is also the solitude of being the first overall pick. The lone man at the top of the mountain. And yet, I feel privilege and humility that from such heights I might perform and inspire others to do better than I might do, just as I am inspired by those who have come before me.
I have been with this league for a short time. These seasons are a strange length in how they last just long enough to end right as we feel they are ready to end. I’m not sure where future seasons will lead but I know that I cannot wait to see what we experience along the way.