I wish sometimes that I could be a bird, like the eagles that soar effortlessly in the skies here in Uganda, flying in circles over a moment to see how all the pieces of it weave together like a brilliant piece of cloth.
Or perhaps I could be a painter, could pick up a brush and paint what I see – just sit tucked away in some quiet corner of an experience to depict every motion and emotion. Now, some would argue that words can do that too, but there’s something about the stroke of the brush against a canvas that can create a moment you could step inside.
Today, if I was a bird, I would see so many colorful threads. Today, if I was a painter, it would have been a lovely “sometime.”