Simple Joys

A fantasy twist to what we all take for granted.

                A flower grew along the side of a tree, begging for warmth and light. Near its death, when leaves began to fall and the air began to chill, a single bud opened.

                Between the petals a being began to move. A face lifted towards the dawn, embracing the sudden chill. The wings of the being were wet, leaving the being powerless till the liquid rose. Touching the wings gently, it spread them open as to allow them to dry quickly. While waiting, the being surveyed its surroundings patiently. A blanket of leaves covered the ground, transforming it into a myriad of reds and yellows; bushes and late flowers just beginning to feel autumn’s kiss.

                Fluttering excitedly, the being contemplated where it should begin exploring. There were too many possibilities of fun to be had; too many to decide. It flitted to and fro between flowers, unable to determine which it would rather examine. Eventually it flew to an empty robin’s nest, shards of blue still littering the branches. It picked them up and laughed, hugging the shards to its chest. They reminded it of the flower that had breathed life.

                A soft wind arrived, dragging with it an assortment of petals and leaves. Overjoyed, the being allowed the wind to carry it. Dipping and swerving, it dived under roots and leaped over flowers. All the while it sang and rejoiced for the day it had been given.

                Throughout the day it thrived and lived, shouting and laughing till its voice began to weaken. It listened to the whispers of the forest and the gentle words of the river; it heard the song of the sun and flew until it could fly no more.

When its breath froze in the air, and the trees began to shiver, it knew that the time had come. Choosing carefully, it decided upon a patch of soil, rich and dark, with the river nearby. Laying down its head, the being waited for the Earth to swallow it up, ignoring the knowledge of imposing death. The Earth welcomed its own and gave promise that another day would be given to its children. Not a flicker of sorrow appeared, for the being listened to the ballad of the moon.