(My hubby challenged me to write a story about this subject manner....now he knows I did just that. giggling. I hope you like my little story)
LADYBUG AND THE FEATHER
© Vickey Stamps
In the land of imagination, and ‘perhaps not so much’, and in the place of clouds and weather, and that which lived within it, as well as small things upon the earth, two were soon to meet and change their world. They would never be the same.
It was the way of those creatures and bearers of feathers, that a molting must take place upon occasion, of the feathers that had served so faithfully, to be replaced by those younger and more able to meet the needs of the bird. And so it had come to be that discarded feathers lay high upon a mountain, destined to go wherever the winds would take them, or perhaps become destroyed by those things around them. All but one feather had gone away. This feather was one which, in part, had harbored upon an eagle, protecting its eyes with fine feathers that it might better see. Tenaciously it had clung to the boulder. Now a bit of wind lifted it up and sent it on yet another journey.
A ladybug made her elderly way among the blades of grass, looking to right and left constantly, for that predator that might want to make a meal of her. She looked also about at her children and their children’s children, and their little ones as well. Her lady-bug mind made its way back to when she had been young and eager, when she had been strong. She had been a protector of the roses and other things that Aphids fed on and ultimately destroyed in that process. She had made her own meals of those creatures as often as she could. How she had loved the beauty of these multi-colored roses, and had often smiled at the sight, as she sometimes perched upon the thorns that served as protectors to them, as did she. The ladybug thought the colors upon the earth, must surely be like a massive quilt with every color upon it that had ever been born. How she wished she could fly above the heavens and look down upon it. She had finally admitted it was unlikely that that would ever happen. Her legs barely took her from one place to another, and she could barely fly, for her wings had long ago grown far to weary to do much of that. She wished that the children would pay more attention to her, for she knew with her condition, her life was surely growing shorter by the day. She sighed to herself. She knew they loved her, but they, unlike her, lived in the day of youth and business, and had little time left for ‘other things.’ She was grateful at least that when all else seemed to be falling apart on her, her eyesight remained well.
A flash of white color attracted that sight now, and she looked upon it. It was A beautiful white feather. She’d seen tiny feathers before on the bodies of the predator birds, that often visited the yard in which she lived. She blinked rapidly and watched it carefully to see what the feather might do. The feather settled upon the walkway that meandered past the ribboned road of roses beside the path. The feather remained quite still watching the lady-bug as well.
Thinking that at this particular point in its life, there was little to be risked, the lady-bug made its way to the feather. Soon a friendly conversation began to happen between these opposites. The feather spoke of its long journey upon the breezes that had dropped it here, and the lady-bug spoke of how nice it was to have someone to talk too. They both had been very lonely. Perhaps they could become friends and help one another. The feather could no longer borrow a tiny bit of sight from the great eagle, and so was victim to where the fates chose to take it. “Perhaps” spoke the feather, having heard the health issues of the ladybug “You could climb up and hold tightly to the bone in the middle of my feather. I could be your legs and you could be my eyes. Together, we could drift across the world, in these last days, and see many more things. You could see the ‘quilt of earth’ beneath you as we make our way too many places. I will have your company and not be so lonely. We can help one another. That is what friends do, you know.”
And so it again came to be, that things became not as they were, but as a creator far wiser then you and I, meant them to be.
The lady-bug called out a good-by to the many children she had mothered and grand-mothered, and climbed bravely up to the center of the beautiful white feather, holding fast to the center bone. A breeze drifted down and under the feather, lifting them both off to see the marvels of the world. It would be a fine time of companionship. When the winds went to rest and the two could no longer travel, for a spell, they would be left in a shelter of sorts and spend time in reliving life as it had once been and as it now was. They would dream together of what tomorrow might hold. LIFE WAS GOOD.