6 July 2008

A Silver Bird

I was walking in a field of long grass, inspecting the seeds and listening to the wind blow past when I felt something hard against my foot. I looked down and noticed a silver bird in the shape of a bracelet half buried in the earth. I picked it up and held it in my hands. It was silver like a reflection of the moon and felt good to touch. It was colder than I expected. I held the bird up close to my ear and it told me that it had become lost trying to find its way home. It had a nice sound to its voice.

I placed it carefully in my inside coat pocket and walked to the top of the nearest hill. Looking down into the next valley, I noticed a house nestling in some trees. The house was small and white, and had a gentle smoke pouring from the chimney that wandered toward the top of the valley.

I walked down to the house and saw a young woman kneeling down planting silver seeds in her garden. They glinted raw sunlight as she held them in her hand. All around, silver necklaces grew from the earth, coiling themselves around whatever was there. Bushes planted in neat rows flowered silver rings that shimmered playfully as the wind swirled through the garden. It was an incredible sight. When I looked back at the woman she had stood up and was facing me, wiping her hands on her apron. The wind blew brown hair across her face and she placed it carefully back behind her ear. She smiled and said hello.

I walked up to her and held out the silver bird. I kept my hands gently around it like I was riding a horse. She took the bird bracelet from me and held it for a time, perhaps appreciating its coolness as I had done earlier. She held it up to her ear and smiled in one corner of her mouth.

After a while she handed it back to me and pointed loosely to a small outbuilding with a tree growing against it. The branches of the tree were pinned to the wall. It was so laden with silver bird bracelets and earrings I doubted whether it could support its own weight. As I walked toward it, the other birds chirped excitedly. The bird said thank you as I held up my hands and it hopped onto a branch to join its friends.

As I passed the woman she smiled at me and told me thank you. She held out her hand and offered me a bird in shape of a ring. It was a very small bird and would only fit on my little finger, but it fitted there perfectly. I said thank you and set off through the long grass back over the hill, feeling the wind of the valley blow past me and listening to the song of the silver bird that was perched on my little finger.

[O: Here, I guess...]

1 comment:

della said...

This reads almost like a dream, with the detail and smooth silverness of it. And peaceful. It feels peaceful like a dream.