The yearn to fly feels so visceral sometimes. Looking at birds, watch their wings sing in the wind drafts, feathers like fingers playing the piano in the air. The way their wings move, and the glide they get just after a strong, fluid brush down. That glide, that freedom, with a push down with our legs, feels similar to that moment of flight and glide that I admire in the surfing seabirds, a moment of pure levity in glide. Birds’ freedom and togetherness, in celebration of the swells that break under their bellies, seems a fun feeling to strive for. What if we asked ourselves a daily question, and there’s no wrong answers, What does it mean to be human? We’re learning moreso every day from everything around us :) 🎥 @dhahau_naseem @theoceanspell