AS LIBERTY SPREAD HER WINGS AND SOARED
As Liberty spread her wings and soared a small boy sat alone on the edge of a pier in the Great North Woods. There was no one else on the lake and the morning mists had risen. He took his eyes from the fishing bobber and looked at the island as the sun sparkled the water and listened to the small waves splash and slap the foam on the shore. There was a twitter of birds, croaking of frogs, buzz of insects and sounds of the forest. He was vacationing with his Grandparents far from the city. A pair of dragonflys spun around the end of his fishing pole and he thought of the Dragon that lived under his bed, back at home. He was just a little boy and knew the Dragon was not quite real. Then again he was wont to think that if he were born in days of old that he would have drawn the Sword from the Stone with ease, walked on water, and become a hero in all manner of lore and stories. Just like any other little boy.
A caw in the air cleared his thoughts as he looked at the island and the main feature that was the Eagle's nest in the highest tree. He often took the old row boat made for a man to the island. It was no small task for a child to manage the oars but he would lift, splash and pull, lift splash and pull until he got to the island. After pulling the bow upon the rocky shore and a bit into the grasses he would walk the island. There were no signs of any other ever being there. No human signs or litter. The little boy would then walk to the base of the tree below the Eagle nest and look at the fish bones. Then look up at the nest and wander about the island sniffing plants, wild flowers, ferns, pines, birch, berries and wild grapes. How blessed he was to be so free and alone.
At the edge of the old pier that creaked when one walked on it, and some boards were missing and half of it was covered with moss, sat the small boy watching his bobber bounce in the small waves when there was a shadow that startled the child and he almost dropped his fishing pole. It was the Eagle. Quietly gluiding with magnificent wings spread not ten feet from the pier. The child stood and spread his arms trying to look like a bird as the Eagle seemed to look him directly in the eye. For a moment, time seemed frozen and there seemed to be a communion. Then the Eagle took flight and I nearly fell off the pier.
In the distance I heard a call. " Stephen, Stephen it is time for lunch." It was my Grandmother Evelyn. A voice like no other, a song in the woods. The boy gathered up the fishing gear and returned to the cabin.
At the table with a plate of steaming food. She asked, " Did you catch any thing? "
The little boy said, " Yes, but the fish got away."
The Eagle in my eye is forever a memory and a melding that I can not explain.
Liberty Spread Her wings and Soared
As ever be well. With love, Stephen Craig Rowe
This week I met Rob Marcello from the band Danger Danger.
http://truthinshredding.blogspot.com/2006/11/robert-marcello-more-noodling-insomia.html
He is a good man and a good friend.
1 comment:
Stephen,
The nature imagery in your flash fiction was very beautiful. It's interesting to see that you have branched out from poetry. I am getting into visuals now and all of us grow as a result of our influence on each other. Its really wonderful. Take care and have a nice weekend.
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