for the birds

Today I walked a decent walk in the cold, against the wind. My yuppie-looking Born loafers sunk into inches of mud. One foot in front of the other. A camera in one hand. A bag in the other. Getting to the top of the bridge was like walking in sand dunes - the top looks so close but you keep walking and don't reach it as soon as you think you will. The wind was strong. I worried about losing my glasses on the way up. My gloved hands held them in place. I started taking pictures. The bridge vibrated as semis rolled across it, beating rush hour traffic. I got a head rush as I reached into my camera bag for different lenses and repeatedly popped up to make photos, my hair in my face. After my assignment, the wind pushed me back down the bridge. I noticed a cluster of birds flying near the banks of the Mississippi. Up and down. Over and under. Click. When I'm looking through my camera, I forget where I am. All my discomfort goes away. I'm with the birds.