The Clemstead

A place heavy with history and screaming for new thoughts.

Mag 184: Up a Tree Without a Ladder

“So how long are you going to sit there? Is there any valid reason why you think an adult your age should be climbing trees, bare foot, in a dress, with a crown and fairy wings?” The bird muttered in squawking tones.

The woman stared at the bird during its fit and finally spoke in a small meek voice, “Dear friend of the forest, be at ease I misjudged the height of this tree… have come to the top and now need a cooling rest before heading down …be at peace.”

“Friend of the forest? Friend of the forest??! I am your bird that you couldn't bear to take care of and left me out here to fend for myself! I thrived, found a partner, built a nest. My nest…where is my nest? Where are my eggs?”

The woman rocked left and right, “I thought that noise was my hips. Oh look…what a lovely shade of white and mustard yellow on the ground.”

1 comments:

Helen September 6, 2013 at 7:33 PM  

Oh - oh .. doesn't look too good for the feathered former friend.

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I come from German (Mennonite/Brethren) stock with bits of Norse, Celtic, Native American, and some mysterious unknown combination from an adopted grandparent. Not an uncommon blend for most of us who settled early in Pennsylvania. This type of diverse heritage left me ripe for the genealogical bug. I make a pilgrimage once a month and attempt to trace all the branches of my family tree. Unearthing facts that were never documented previously always brings excitement.

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