The Art of Flight

On the night of the full moon the song of the rustling leaves was being played by the earth’s gentle breath and whispered into the ears of all those who cared to listen. A mother owl sways back and fourth amongst the tall skinny tress. As she surfed the breeze she exaggerated every stroke, demonstrating her technique to her onlookers. Her younglings chirp with anticipated fear as they know they soon must copy. With the moon’s spotlight showing her way home she ducks under a branch like she has many times before. She could fly these parts blind, guided only by her memory. She arches upward as if to catch a star and slowly comes to a stop, resting her feet on the edge of her bed. Her biggest child, the bully brother, was nudged to go first. His whole life he was the best, snatching what he wanted and holding favor to himself. Spreading his wings in a manner that exemplified his cockiness he turned his head to the side; eyeing his two younger siblings to be sure they were watching and then when he was sure he had all the attention he dropped. Twisting and turning in a frantic flail of his body in an attempt to catch the uplifting feeling of weightlessness. A soft thud vibrated the woods floor followed by a dead silence that greeted his embarrassed failure. Shaking, the middle child was shoved fourth. He had always copied and followed his brother and now, what was he to do? Scared and without thinking he jumped. In such a rush he had no time to prepare. He met the same fate as the oldest. The youngest was made to go next. He was his own, detached from his brothers as they took everything from him his whole life. His mother would occasionally sneak him food off to the side as the other brothers were sleeping or playing. He humbly wobbled to the edge and peered down in a skeptical fear. He saw the gaze of his fallen brothers. It was filled with question and wonder that gave him a new sense of hope. Maybe he could do it. He cleared his mind and craning his neck he prayed to the elements as he took in a deep breath. With a peaceful state of mind he let his feet slip off the edge. He slowly outstretched his wings and with the help of the moon his shadow was cast onto his brothers below. He strained his muscles and carved through the air, swooping near the forest ground kicking up fallen leaves around him. His mother smiled in pride as she saw her son disappear into the horizon to embark on a journey of his own.