On my daily lunch time walk yesterday I saw a sparrow hawk (I think)  rise on the blustery wind, from the valley, up above the tree line to the height of the hill, in 3 or 4 seconds. Amazing. 

Mastery of the sky, or of anything, draws gasp of admiration. 

And as I try to relearn the guitar, and as my fingers struggle to acquire new muscle memory, it’s important for me to remember this truth - the bird I saw fly so magnificently yesterday, was once a featherless chick flapping stubby wings, unconvincingly,  on the edge of a precarious nest.