Mood: annoyingly over-sensitive
Not considering myself very keen on environmental issues, which is deeply rooted in my understanding of mankind, being nothing close to an animal lover, who is not scared by dogs, and seldom associating nature with sentiments, I do start to pay attention on the flying creatures while walking and find them amazing. Pigeons, sparrows, hawks, or crows, I cannot and do not care to tell, but watching them spread their wings floating into the blue sky against the cold wind, I couldn't help envying their ability to detach themselves from the ground. They could fly anywhere they want to, which although is not true deprives me of all the pettiness I felt in the chest. Does it matter? Does anything matter as long as I can go free? I won't go ahead to turn things too sentimental or try to symbolize more, but I want to remember the image and the feeling it generates. Those dark spots against the sky reminds me that sometimes it is all about flying away.
