Day 241/365 Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

I have been collecting feathers for years. I find them to be not only beautiful, but inspiring…transcendent.

Who hasn’t imagined what it would be like to be a bird in flight? 

When my ex and I split up four years ago, the girls and I moved to a tiny guest cottage on a farm. Right next to the cottage was a barn, and I loved to watch the barn swallows weave in and out of it.  They became symbols of freedom for me, gliding through the air at dusk.

I have written before about the hawk whose feathers brushed against my cheek while I rested my head on my father’s bed in the ICU. I knew it was him, somehow…letting me know he was ready to leave his broken body.

I placed a beautiful hawk feather with him in his casket, as a reminder that he would not remain there, in that box.

He was free to fly.

A hawk manages to be fierce yet delicate, powerful yet inconceivably light. Lately I have been so heavy…in mind and in heart. Though I do very much intend to remain (for quite some time, I hope), here in this earthly body of mine, I have longed for levity, for lightness of being. 

This necklace given to me for my birthday by Sarah and Shane is a perfect and simple reminder of the lightness I seek…of freedom from heavy things.

Slowly I elevate, gaining a new perspective…sometimes that’s all we need to begin to shift. 


Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all…

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

-Emily Dickinson

{Feather artwork by Golly Bard can be found here. I just purchased a couple of prints from her Easy shop today. So beautiful!}