Birds-eye

Birds-eye, part 3

I knew things weren't right as soon as she came up to the river earlier. First of all, it wasn't her usual time. Normally, she'd come in some while after the sun had reached its zenith, when the world slows down and everyhting's languid. But now, it wasn't too long past sunset. The heat hadn't yet left the land. To escape its lingering presence, I had gone down to the river, where there's always a gust of wind, with wondrous promises. Plus, there's usually bugs out there too and I was feeling a bit snackish.

From the other side of the water calls rose up. It was only echoes to reach me, but I don't need a lot to work with. I can spot a female from miles away, I can. I remember thinking to myself that when diner was done, I might try and fly out across the water. Be a gentlebird and go and introduce myself. Who knew, maybe the ladies needed someone to guide them through unfamiliar terrain.

A horrible deformation of a familiar sound suddenly ripped my plans apart. Out of nowhere appeared a car, one of these things humans use to forget their lacks of wings. Pity, that. I can't imagine having to go through life while being stuck on the ground. There's nothing that compares with the joy of soaring on a gentle air-current, the world a green-blue haze underneath. You go higher and higher, lifted up by a gust of wind, almost as if you're thrown up. Then there's a moment, only the tiniest moment, of standstill. Nothing moves. The wind is gone. You're left you hanging in sheer nothing. Suddenly the world and all you hold dear seems a long time away. You look down. Dizziness. But then, before you even know it, before you actually thought about it, your wings kick in. You flap and flap again, your feathers tugging against the cold. You move. No, you soar. No, you fly. Turning and diving, lifting, pivoueting, rising, dancing, speeding, slowing, descending, diving, diving, down, down, wings up and then, finally, your feet upon something firm, a branch, a rock, anything, waiting for the speed, the gusto, to leave your body. Quivering. Having to miss that... no wonder humans turned out the way they did.


Previous parts:
Birds-eye, part 1
Birds-eye, part 2