May 4, 2010
By s.alexie SILVER, Lisle, Illinois
s.alexie SILVER, Lisle, Illinois
9 articles 0 photos 2 comments

The sun just touched the horizon, barely caressing the awaiting flowers. It tempted the sleeping drops of dew awake, stealing their moisture within minutes of its arrival. In the early hours of morning, no creatures stirred, save those animals that were just closing their eyes, the gentle warmth of the sun nursing them to sleep. It was as it would be for every morning to come, as it was in every moment of pure stillness and peace.

The sharp meander of the river curved carefully around the trees and hugged the soil as closely to its breast as possible. Not drop of water moved; it was stagnant, but fresh, crisp. A bird swooped low, diving in towards its morning meal, and for a moment, the stillness was disturbed, and the forest paused, waiting to see if it was time to wake. But another moment passed and all was as it had been.

In a tree overlooking the still of the water, branches wove intricate designs, casting a crimson shadow over the ground. Resting upon these tightly woven branches was a nest, compiled of paper and cloth and twigs. Inside, blue eggs rested, unmoving, dead to the world. What lay inside wait in the hard shells, holding back until the moment that the stillness would break.

The single moment expanded into millions of seconds. A minute faded into hours, and the world held its breath. No gasp for air, no scream of pain or pleasure fell out of loose lips. There were no greedy smiles or greedy hands, only a breath of air so crisp that it had to be held in for one, two, three seconds.

And then the wind blew.

And it was released.

The sun parted from the hills, grudgingly, and slid into the open expanse of the sky, crimson turning to blue.

A creature opened its eyes and pawed its neighbor, tempting it into consciousness like the sun did the dew. Peace and stillness turned to familiarity and uncertainty.

The water quivered with the echo of the breeze, the same wind that drew its course. The bird chewed its food, and climbed the churning air to its nest.

In it, the branches opened up and made way for life as the blue shells fell to the grass and blind eyes searched in vain for light, while shaky legs tried to support exposed skin.

Mother found offspring and nature sung the lullaby the newborns were not able to.

The grass turned greener and the sun shown down brighter. Birds tried to fly, and failed, and no one knew what was going to happen next.

But the wind still blew.

And tomorrow, everything would change.

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