Which leads me to something which I consider a good symbol of myself:
Now before you all judge me and say "Miss, birds are dirty and gross. They are rats with wings." let me explain:
Feathers are cool things. They can be sturdy or delicate, light or heavy. They are complex objects. Yes, they can be dirty, but they can also be exquisitely beautiful (Birds of Paradise, anyone?). Tolstoy's War and Peace was patiently copied out by hand using a quill pen. Love letters and death sentences alike have been scratched out with the tips of feathers. There is an ethereal quality to them because depending on the kind of pressure they can be damaged beyond repair, or made to fly. Native Americans believe they have healing poroperties. Native Hawaiians used them as symbols of power and family history.
It is not the feather itself, but the story of all these things, that appeals to me. We take such mundane items for granted, but in truth even the most common thing can have a glorious existence. I hope it is the same for me.
NOW, young Golden Hawks, may second quarter be SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!!!