The Rise

~Sometimes there are no explanations for the things that cross our paths. They are there and therefore, there they are~

There was a sudden rustling of wind rushing past the back of my head. I turned, just slightly, to look , but whatever it was, was no longer there. My eyes scanned the horizon, searching, but found nothing.

I noticed many other things instead, but none I would call a threat right away, if at all. Trees nearly bare of leaves, the breeze taking what’s left slowly and carrying them on the back of the wind. There were a few critters scattered about, nothing that grabbed my attention in a stand out way. Just movement in the distance not heading this way. I sit here watching everything often. Some days it seems like the only thing that I have done. And some days it is.

The view from my window has a clear view of the world before me. It lets me see what is going on, without being apart of anything which sometimes is it’s own priceless moment. Sometimes it’s lonely not having anyone to share everything that I am seeing and thinking with, but overall I think I must be content. I am still here, in all the same ways as always. Surely I’d make changes if I wasn’t.

There have been times where I would question everything.

Where did everything go?

Why is there so much destruction?

When did people stop noticing the decrease in surrounding life, or haven’t they even seen it yet? How could they not see it, it’s all around them.

I remember one time I was perched up in the window, looking out to the distant trees, watching the squirrels jump from branch to branch to get to something just out of my sight. There were a few of them, and they all wanted the same thing making for an exciting game of chase. I don’t know which one of them ended up with whatever it was since they all kinda look the same. And having no way to tell, I decided they all must have one.

I wanted to see the squirrels jumping around again, full of life like they were that day. It was warmer then, everything just starting to come to life. Today is much colder and I figure that must have something to do with it. Life shines more brightly where there is warmth. The cold seems to just be a reminder for death and lost things.

Absently I am scratching my nail along the wooden frame of the window. I hear the wood shredding away and look down to see what I have just done. It’s a small scratch, making it blend in with all the others I have etched into the surface.

Something has me on edge today but I still don’t know what. There doesn’t appear to be anything, but I had learned a long time ago that appearances are not ever the whole picture. Beneath the images presented is all the intentions and dreams just lingering there waiting to be understood. A whole different look to the first one given.

Stuff like that can really go either way. It would be great if things just worked out and were always good, but a lot of times it ends up being a bunch of snakes in the grass.

My scratching has turned to tapping, which is new so I can’t tell if it’s a better relief of building tension or not yet. I stop, deciding that it’s making me feel impatient and unsettled. I was already beginning to feel that way, for some reason the tapping highlighted it even more. So back to scratch scratch scratching at the surface.

I til my head to the side again, looking still for that sound that shook my nerves just enough to keep looking. My thoughts seem to provide an extra bit of fuel and I can’t shake my own feelings of snakes in the grass. Unconsciously I tilt my head down just to be sure none are sneaking up on me. Nothing, yet, has crawled out of the woodwork and let itself be known.

A light breeze bringing the sent of cedar wood burning glided past my window. It was full and rich and smelled fresh. I looked further than I had been, stretching my sight to its limitations, trying to catch a glimpse of where the smoke was coming from. I couldn’t pinpoint the direction when I first caught the sent. It was so brief and I am realizing now that I hadn’t even bothered to notice from which direction the wind has been blowing from. I lift my neck and from just a little to the right, maybe 7 or 8 miles away, I can smell it lingering in the air.

A chill runs up my spine. Thoughts drift around in the back of my mind. So much of my life has been from this one vantage point. Everything that I’ve needed has always been right here. And if it wasn’t, it’s nearby enough to not even give much thought to. But there it is, moving closer as the wind keeps blowing it in this direction.

I look behind me, taking back in what I have known for nearly all of my time. Dusty and worn wooden floors and walls that are withstanding. A larger window on the opposite end of the room but that one is always latched. There’s a loft, and somewhere up there when it’s raining outside, there’s a this dripping that becomes waterfall like.

Rain would be good now. It could extinguish the flames out there and save what little of the world that hasn’t been destroyed. Instead there’s the burning air to remind me that there isn’t very much time to do much of anything.

I look back outside, the sky has gotten darker and I can see the smoke gathering amongst the trees. A slight tint of orange dancing from leaf to leaf. If I didn’t know better I’d watch the mesmerizing glow as it leaps and skips through the air. I sit here all night if I could until the last glow of the embers faded to its last glow.

I rest my head on the side of the window and taking in one last final look before I take off into the night a sigh releases from inside me. “So very much.”

I dig into the wooden frame of the window, pulling down before rising up. Gathering the air around me to create a small wind that I can use to lift me off to find a new kind of safety to call home.

The crackle of wood echoes loudly and I take off out the window dropping a tear behind me as I go. “So very much.”

Digging down to the deepest parts of me I keep going. My wings gaining speed as I move between the tops of the trees, away from the burning behind me now consuming the barn I have known and loved. I can’t remember a time that I wasn’t there anymore, it has been that long.

I look down along the ground to see if I can find anywhere that I might stop and take stock of things. A nice tree hollow would due for now. Something in between where I was and wherever it is that I’ll be going next. There aren’t many places for a night owl , especially one like me. I am more interested in the growth of the world around me , where the death lands seem to be all that remains.

I fly up higher and try to get a better look of all of my surroundings. There’s not much, but a few green patches scattered about. Nearly everything has become a dead image of its former self. Rotting away in the burnt trees and empty land. Some things have chosen to stay there, despite everything, trying to hold onto a life that no longer exists.

New sounds and smells have begun to surround me and a sense of joy rushes through me. There’s a roar and the sounds of birds chattering. Salty sweetness and fish. I don’t see any barns like the one I had loved forever but instead a large stone tower with a great light cutting into the dark.

I could stay there maybe. I could maybe love it there too.

I land on the highest point on the structure and stand there looking around. It’s not the same as I have known, but this could be home.