morning symbolism

This morning on my 6am walk, I had a strange encounter. I saw what I thought was a rabbit in someone's yard. Nothing too odd about that; rabbits are pretty plentiful around here (I guess there's some truth to that whole adage- they multiply like you-know-whats), so I wasn't all that shocked. I reminded myself to keep a safe distance in case he was a rabid bastard and keep on truckin. I watched it as it watched me and then took off across the grass. Then, the strangest thing happened. It took flight. It bounded one, two times and then was airborne. That's when I realized that it wasn't a rabbit at all, but a bird (I also realized that I need to start wearing my glasses more often). Okay, so it wasn't exactly a "road to Damascus" moment, but being on that eternal quest for meaning, I didn't have to look far for the literary symbolism. Maybe the pieces I relegate in the limbo file should be given their day. Just because I see them as dime-a-dozen, rabid bastards doesn't mean I should not give them their chance to fly, right?