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The Birds, they took off

There was a chill in the air that went straight through you. It didn’t matter if you were a badger or a rabbit or a raven, sitting on a branch with the other birds.
With the chilling wind came a whisper, a unmistakable voice telling of warmer places and food and a place to rest.

The birds stirred. But still, they waited. Like a family or a best friend, no one was to be left behind.
For days they waited, all the terns and all the swallows, they waited for the rest of the family.
The smaller birds grew more and more anxious with the growing of the cold… When are we leaving?

The days flew by and the birds still waited. Paws on the ground, silent predators, waiting, waiting, like vultures on a battlefield, waiting for the soldiers to fall. Their high pitched wolf cries rippled through the air once in a while, and the birds once again stirred, shook their feathers in a worried manner and gribbed the branches tighter. Only the pale moon shone on the hungry wolves. They were greedy shadows, waiting, waiting.

Weeks went, and the food became scarce. Some birds grew impatient and they flew before the time was right. They would have to manage on their own now. They did not have the priviledge of a family anymore.

Autumn grew angry and unfair, and her winds undid the feathers of those who loyally stayed behind.
Finally, all the travelers were present. But Autumn was ruthless.
When the birds took off, one by one, until they were all in the air, soaring in between each other, there was no living creatures left on the branches. The birds took of.

Only one bird was left for the wolves, dead on the ground, frozen; as a crude reminder of the imminent arrival of Winter.

 

– April 20, 2012

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