“Linda, Come Here!” Terry called to me.
Once there I saw what he was seeing:
There on the winter-dried-out lawn was a white bird
It was all fluffed up in the 10* (feels like 8*) —– -122 c ) cold—sitting motionless
As we watched through the window it started to warm up enough to want to move
Concentrating on staying warm, yet walking forward
Gradually it made it’s way to the area where we were watching out of the window
Then it was tired, resting near the summer chairs.
After a time, this luminous little feathered creature turned its back to us (I think it might have been hurt, see the black spots and the lack of rounding out feathers?)
Lifted wings and flew away toward the tractor shed, where we saw it no more.
The last time I saw a sight so rapturous was the day of my Daddy’s funeral.
(A New Year night moon through the trees)
What this an Omen? A Sign? Love sent to Terry and me from another existence in time?
From my world to your heart,