I tended the yard. My body was dripping in sweat and exhausted. Then came the whisper. One I know well. To go and walk as a feather was calling. The whisper took me to the river beneath the freeway and overgrown. I do not normally walk this part, but today that was where the whisper led.

The crickets were so numerous it seemed the earth itself was leaping into the air. Tiny fish were swimming and the water was singing as it streamed past the rocks. No feather waited. I laughed to think that even my earlier sweat was sweating. I bowed to the river. Life is teaching me to find “feathers” in other forms. The river had offered her feather of singing grace. Walking back to the car and across the grocery store’s large parking lot was the feather. Trampled by cars there it was. I bowed and said thank you. When I got home I gently cleaned and let it sit in the sun. 

One could say I had to be at exactly the right spot coming up the river bank to take that direction towards the car. One could even estimate the odds of my walking across that exact spot in the large parking lot and finding the feather. Better yet, one could simply bow in awe at perfect grace.