The following message was sent to me by my brother and I think it’s worth posting.
“When a flock of birds fly they organise themselves, without apparent communication, into formations that allow each one to be pulled along in the slipstream when they’re tired. Or exhausted. Or injured.
They do it so well that they can fly, as a group, thousands of kms across oceans and then have enough energy to find feeding grounds from the year before. And without fail they are blown off course during the ordeal. None would make it alone. Prior to setting off they look after themselves in order that they may endure. They also inherently know that they will be called upon to care for their own along the way and take their turn at the front where the going is toughest. If they are unfit, the flock dies with them. Each one therefore cares for his brother or sister, son or daughter.
At quiet times they molt. Every time I see my birds molt, or my dogs, or I see my people shed layers, another newer, better, fresher layer miraculously appears. The process always seems uncomfortable however; even torturous at times.
Your wings are flayed, now.”
jmgoyder 
Very nice post, Julia. 🙂
Courtesy of my lovely brother, Brin.
That’s lovely.
Yes I have two fantastic brothers.
Well said (and important to remember)
Yes!
Nature leads the way – lovely post
Thanks and happy new year!
Lovely.
Sure is!