As I was about to get on the highway, a baby bird jumped onto the window ledge of my Civic. I could see it in my driver’s side mirror, and tried to nudge it off by letting my foot off the break a bit— nothing.
I made a left turn onto the exit ramp, and the baby bird hung on for dear life. In fact, it looked like it was enjoying itself, closing its eyes, its wings held back. At one point, it didn’t even look like a bird, just a ball of feathers flapping in the wind.
“WheeeeeeEEEEEEeeeeeeeee!” I heard it squeal. Yeah. No joke. Literal squeals of joy as if it was on a roller coaster, as if it was having the the time of its life.
I was afraid the poor bird was going to smack the pavement and die a painful death as i accelerated, so I slowed down, and it miraculously latched on until I pulled over.
After trying just about everything to get the bird off the car, it flew off into some nearby woods on it’s own, as if to say, “Okay, I’m done with you now. You can go.”
Laughing hysterically while hopping back in the car, I thought about what the fuzzy little messenger had taught me:
Jump in and hold on to something solid. Experience the ride fully. Don’t be afraid to hold out your arms. We’ll all hit the pavement eventually, so why let it keep you from enjoying the ride?
And don’t forget to let out squeals of unadulterated joy when the mood strikes.