I think every child loves to find a feather. There is always the brief flash of wonder ... how did this feather get here? How long was it waiting for me?
And then the fingers get busy. Feeling the smooth length of it. Separating the segments and magically zipping them back up again. A feathery tickle for a cheek.
I've never seen a feather fall from a bird. Only discovered tucked, wedged, or just resting upon the space I'm about to pass. And I still like to wonder about the journey it's taken on the way to be found. Yes. It's good to be found.