Blossoms of Birds

I was walking back to work, from the bank – congratulating myself that my purse hadn't been stolen (I held on to it, white-knuckled, all the way back).

At one point I passed a type of box hedge, dull and olive – its flat, sheared top just reaching to my shoulders.  In its interior there was a lot of activity:  I saw the leaves vibrate; I heard delicate rustles as the tiny inhabitants jumped from branch to branch.  There were groups of twitterings rising to the surface and breaking free, the notes taking their place in the sky as if it was an endless, blue lyric sheet.

I really didn't understand anything that was being said, but surely the discussion was an excitable one.

Suddenly, pop!

From the top of the hedge there sprouted a flower.  It had wings.  It grew with quick, nervous movements.  It had a beak which had once freed it of its childhood home, when its petals were still curled and weak.  Its roots were not visible, twisted tightly around one of the branches which formed the dark labyrinth within.

Then:  Pop!  Pop!  Pop!  Pop!  Four more appeared – an entire featheration of flowers.  They spun on their stationary stalks with sharp, little turns:  like the tiny ballerina dancing inside of a music box.

This garden, alive, breathing, driven by rapid flickering hearts, was growing only a foot or two away from me.  But not a single blossom took its floating flight.  They were in constant rotation:  maybe they were looking for the sun, and were having trouble finding its warm reassurance on such a cluttered, dirty afternoon.

I walked away smiling.  If I had dared to pick them, what a charming bouquet they would have made.

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10 responses to “Blossoms of Birds

  1. [no, this is brilliant] Delightful

  2. I concur with IG above. Delightful.

  3. [this is utterly charming]

    Aubs, writings like these make me want to break out into a British-accented "De-LIGHT-ful!" while polishing a monocle.

  4. Now I don't "Favorite" things but if I did, I would "Favorite" this.

  5. I love the idea of a flower with wings.

  6. A fanciful accent for the day. We need More Fancy to balance out the Dire Seriousness we wear daily.

  7. We do need more delight, fancy and whimsy. They sometimes keeps themselves hidden, but really not as deeply as we think. They wait, I think, for us to tilt our heads slightly – just enough to see things differently, so we can appreciate their capricious art.
    Suga' – are you saying that you're not already wearing a monocle?

  8. You have an amazing way with words!

  9. My birds.
    It is 18 degrees. It is 10 degrees.
    I see them in the front yard and the back. I see them every trip I take. In the country or out.
    They are beautiful and intent only on thier own missions. I feed them because I love to see them.
    Little sparks of life. Souls. Thank god for them.

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