A story which occurred to me when I picked up this feather whilst out walking. Feeling the wind push against it, trying to lift it, was a marvellous moment for me :)
Marvellous Moments #1 - Feather
Cara stooped, grabbed up the feather lying on the tow path
and swiftly held it aloft to prevent Snaps liberating it. At six months, her
retriever was living up to his name, retrieving everything and snapping it up
to be presented at Cara’s feet with a goofy, tongue-lolling grin. She hurled
one of his battered tennis balls into the undergrowth and he was off.
The feather, twirling in her fingers, probably belonged to
one of the rooks who held chaotic court in a stand of nest-laden oaks on her
left. She wasn’t clued up enough to know for sure, but the black had a
shimmering hint of blue down one side, dancing in the dappled sunlight. A stray
breeze caught the feather when held up to the light and she felt the ghostly
tug as it tried to break free. Cara tucked it behind her ear, spent 5 minutes
rooting Snaps out of the water weeds and ambled home.
Just after midnight, Snaps decided he really, really needed
to use the amenities. Cara was pretty sure it had more to do with the
intriguing scuffling, rustling and calling which emanated from the wild patch
she hadn’t yet got round to clearing out since moving in. Still, it was a still
night, a full moon swimming in a star-speckled sea, and sleep was elusive. She
watched the dog hurtle down the back steps and disappear into the gloom,
accompanied by several excited yips and wuffs.
Settling onto the porch swing, running a hand through her
hair, Cara was surprised to feel the stiff prickle of her feather. She
chuckled, wondering if she might actually have slept with it tucked safely
through a curl. Once again the wind tugged playfully at the feather, Cara
marvelling at the force. It almost felt like she could take off with maybe one
or two more, so strong was the pull. She closed her eyes for a moment, twirling
the feather against her lips.
Slowly, by degrees, Cara began to feel light, ephemeral, as
if a breath of breeze would whisk her away. Her hair seemed to stream back,
tendrils tickling at her eyelids, cheeks and neck. She caught the scent of damp
leaves, rich earth and mossy bark. An owl screeched, a fox screamed, and far
below something scuttled, hunted, fleeing. She felt her body turn, passing
within inches of a tree branch, leaves whistling by, occasionally dripping the
night’s rain. Her wings stretched, flexed, curved and straightened, aiding her
flight. She had never felt so free, so light, so alive.
Alighting within the rookery, she felt the warmth, scented
the musky feathery oneness of her mate beside her, head cocked, inquisitive,
questioning with those intelligent eyes. Who are you, for you are not she? He
shook out his feathers, crowed softly and dipped his head twice. It felt like dismissal
but she had no desire to go. This was life, unfettered, raw and wonderful.
She felt a coldness. A damp insistence at her wing tip… her…
fingers? A low, uncertain snuffling, heaviness against her wing… arm? A low
wuff and she was back, Snaps bounding off and back now equilibrium was
restored, licking her hand. His attentions caught her off-guard, the feather
slipping from her grasp and streaking into the moonlit air. A shadow crossed
the moon, a rook, flying home after its strange adventure.
“Thank you” Cara whispered, her mind still floating, her
heart light as she returned to the house, Snaps grinning at her heel.
You are a beautiful writer!
ReplyDeleteMeans a lot, Kelly, thank you :)
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