I lay on a gently swinging hammock, staring up at the cloudless sky. The vast pastel blue sky stretched out above me like a giant canvas; painted by an artist far greater than any human could dream of being. It was still and unbroken, like the glassy surface of a cool lake on a warm summer’s afternoon; gently soothing my riled soul.
A soft breeze makes my hair dance around, to the soft melody of the playful birds in the distance. They seem to direct their joyous whistles and clucks towards me; beckoning me to come join them in their delightful games. They tempt me to come play and sing and carelessly flit about with them; far above the evils of the world.
The leaves of the forest in front of me are rustling; gently whispering to my heart. Calming my fears and telling me to be patient; reminding me that the One who made and sustains all this life, is the One who will guide my steps, if I will only wait on Him.
I allow the crackling of the campfire beside me, and the tinkling of a nearby wind chime to carry me into a dreamy stupor. I watch a Robin glide past me lazily, and then gracefully drop onto a branch of an ancient Oak tree in my yard. Everything is well in the world.
Then a hawk screeches; and the wellness is gone. The Robin has suddenly disappeared, seemingly into thin air; and the birds of the forest have fallen into a terrified silence. The bird of prey circles above me; like a streak of evil across the blissful sky.
I imagine I am a Cardinal in the woods; terrified and searching for somewhere, anywhere, to hide. But all of the hollow trees that I see are occupied by other frightened birds; distraught, for my sake, that the hawk will find me. And then he does; his shiny black eyes lock in on me as soon as he comes around a giant Sycamore.
He flaps toward me rapidly; screeching threateningly as he closes the space separating him from his meal. I flap through the woods wildly; doing my best to replace the gap that separates me from certain death. The twigs whipped my face and wings, making it hard to fly. I don’t want to be his supper.
The hawk surges towards me, and, at the last moment, I veer to the right. He, being the less dexterous bird, flew right past me; and it takes him several moments to stop and correct his course. That gives me precious seconds to put time between us; I almost get away, I’m almost to safety…When something hits my face, hard.
I yelped and jerked my heads around, frantically trying to locate the bird trying to make me his next meal; but there is no hawk, and there is no danger. Instead I find myself lying face-down in the inch-tall grass; with the treacherous hammock swinging smugly beside me.
I sat up, rubbed my face, and grumbled at renegade hammock; which had yet again proved that I wasn’t welcome to lie on it. A mockingbird is laughing at me scornfully; and even the songbirds, who had resumed their songs, sound derisive to me now. The world had return to mocking me.
‘Come play’ they had said; I could just forget about flying, if I was too dumb to lay on a hammock.
I sighed and buried my toes in the grass, and let the sunlight it had absorbed throughout the day warm my chilled toes. I looked up and watched two sparrows chase each other through the long shadows of late afternoon, and then around and around a young spruce tree.
“One day,” I sighed, “One day I’ll be as free as you.”
Points: 0
Reviews: 311
Donate