It was a beautiful sunrise, a light breeze, sounds of birdsong, a dog barking far off. The joy of the daybreak was palpable. I could hear my family waking around me, murmuring, scratching, lazily moving around… Waiting for me.
Nothing for it…the need to get up and get going, to steer the ship that is our lives, to leave this peace and tranquility with gratitude for having had the time to appreciate all that is.
The bird flew off and sat on a branch not far from the sill and sat there looking me straight in the eyes. Without breaking eye contact I rejected the call and moved slowly to the window.
What flashed through my mind as I released the latch was that I was being naive, surely the wind was far too strong, his feathers at least should be ruffled. Compelled, I asked again, “who are you?”
He fluttered in and maintaining eye contact all the while perched on the painting. I stood silent, watching, waiting. After what seemed a while, I realized that I was seeing myself in another time and space that I recognized. I had been here before, but how, when? Before me was a vast stretch of roiling sea, wind Holing through the trees behind us standing on the edge of an old stone wall, hand in hand with the little black bird, he was still gazing at me and I knew…