Looking up into the leafless tree, the white paper bag fluttered slightly in the breeze.
Now how did that bag get up there? That was the question that kept running through my mind. A powerful wind must have lifted it and got it tangled among the branches.
Perhaps some Mama bird will nestle her babies underneath it when cold rain torrents down from the sky.
Or, perhaps, yet another powerful blast of wind will rip it free from the branches and it will be, once again, on its way to the next adventure.
Every now and then, darkness settles in. Words get lost, mangled, and can't find their way out. Writing gets blocked, the muse is shy, uninspired, passionless. Sometimes, we need a kick-start, a reminder, beautiful words from a friend. Like this from my dear June, who told me "The world is a better place when you are writing Karen" and effectively re-kindled those creative embers.
2 comments:
My first thought was "Cocoon on twigs, or plastic bag in branches?" Perspective makes any dilemma clearer.
Looking up into the leafless tree, the white paper bag fluttered slightly in the breeze.
Now how did that bag get up there? That was the question that kept running through my mind. A powerful wind must have lifted it and got it tangled among the branches.
Perhaps some Mama bird will nestle her babies underneath it when cold rain torrents down from the sky.
Or, perhaps, yet another powerful blast of wind will rip it free from the branches and it will be, once again, on its way to the next adventure.
Susan
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