In this crisp, fall morning I was walking, bracing myself against the cold gusts of wind that hit my face like sharp pieces of glass. I witnessed something of familiarity, but it never struck me quite this way before. A small finch, golden like the colours of fall,, or crowns of a finest king, was struggling to take flight against the torrents of wind that surrounded it. It kept spinning in circles. Trying and trying to soar into sun-lit skies. It failed many times. Sometimes I feel that way. No matter how hard I try I never meet up to what I want or expect. I don't think to ever be perfect, that is an impossible goal for any of us. But sometimes I feel like that poor little finch. Wanting to take flight, but so much is holding me back, spinning me around and around and around, letting me go nowhere. "growing up" is hard. So many responsibilities. Commitments. Sometimes I feel as if I "bite off more than I can chew." Nevertheless, that little bird, beautiful, bold, cheerful--took off finally. The gust of wind that had been holding it back gave it a boost and it soared off into the heavens, singing, rejoicing. It made me think to use the things that are "holding me back" as stepping stones--footstools to push me to the limits and succeed. It made me think to take flight, hoping I don't crash.