September 15, 2021 - 12:33am — theano7203
The clouds innocently streamed across the sky. White, high but not cirrus. Clouds from the sea making strands like seagrass but in the sky. Slowly the clouds broaden over time and the blue sky disappears. Gently and ever so quietly it began to drizzle and the sky became the soft gray all the way to the ground as the landscape began to shadow.
The wind though slight stirred alarms in the heads of deer. More was to come and night was upon them. Scanning the horizon the deer saw the outline of an ancient tree and hoped its large root system entering the ground would provide an alcove of safety for what was to come. Making their way through field and trees they stopped to graze in case the storm was long.
The ancient tree had what was needed. Two immense roots plunging into the ground with at least three feet of height. Nesting in the older deer looked at the canopy and its thickness indicated it would ward off the worst of the rain.
Several hours later the gentle wind increased into a gale with rain driving sideways and the canopy showering the sheltered deer with leaves and small branches. The roots height blocked most the severe gusts but rain still managed to pelt them once in a while. The canopy danced back and forth swaying and bowing.
Suddenly the bleat of another deer not in the group was heard. Natural instinct was to pop up and offer help. Ancient deer with a turn of the head and a nod stopped that. The wind would win and more than one deer would be in trouble. The deer bleated loudly in hopes the one battered and torn could come and take shelter.
Out of the mist two deer appeared ragged with wind whips across their fur and they darted into the root system and fell exhausted on the edge of the herd. The wind picked up speed just as they entered the haven and the outline of a third deer appeared for a second. Then the wind got underneath and casted the deer into the air. Running with the sleek legs in the wind it almost appeared the air had always been its ground to graze. In less than a second the form was gone and all that was left was the spirit of grace the herd had felt for a moment. The two new deer hung their heads in respect. Then scooted further into the group.
THe glimpse of a flying deer stays with one long after the event. Though the storm would pass teh image would remain.
A beautiful read, thank you
Hope all is well your way and
Such a beautiful story!
Fair things your way, as
Hope it came true if not have
May it help inspire or bring