Little Bird

Day 4 of the John Hewitt International Summer School finished. What an amazing, inspiring and creative week… thought I would put together a little story of my journey so far …

Little Bird

The slight lip of the sun peaked from just beyond the horizon. Pearls of dew glistening on top of tranquil green leaves. Tiny domes of moisture filled with refracting colours. Dawn carefully dusting a hazy lilac between the viridescent and coffee tones.

She watches outwards from her nest. A carefully crafted bowl of twigs and moss, bonded by her own feathers. Leaving the warm comfort she relies upon to know her meaning brings with it a hesitation. A fear. A rolling blanket of what ifs.

If she waited a little longer, it would be too late. Her wings may no longer stretch to the way she wants them.

Carefully treading, small steps towards the edge. She falls. Tumbling messily. Chaotic. A tangled blur of feet and plumage.
Only she can decide what happens next. Only she can choose where she allows her wings to carry her.

She rises.

Between the swallows and the magpies, the blackbirds and the song thrush. She watches as, with ease, each one ambitiously glides in perfect motion. Her wings aching with intent, determined to keep up.

She listens to their chorus welcoming the burnt saffron glow of a new day. Different songs. Different voices. Together in a harmony.

The flight has given her a new sense of belonging. The anticipation for the morning, the passion from the diving and floating, drifting and flitting, now held even deeper within her.

She can feel the time is right to return. Her wings heavy with new experience. Her heart yearning for the where she knows. Wearied eyes and fatigued little legs.

Homeward bound she drifts. Happy. Proud. Optimistic.

Another dawn is just a moment away.