Friday January 2nd, 2015

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about: the aviary.

I've noticed a wide variety of birds around our borrowed home, but today in particular was pretty amazing. There were the usual assortment of magpies in their black and white formal wear, a couple of Steller's jays hanging out in the backyard in their casual blue and black, and even an unidentified hawk perched out front for a short while.

My photo trigger finger is getting twitchy. I shall have to go on a little expedition once the temperatures warm up a little bit. Or at least when the wind settles down.


"Magnificent, aren't they my friend?"


"You seem nervous... is something amiss?"

"Well, I know for a fact that they haven't been fed in over a week... and you've never called me a friend before, Henri."


Greg said...

That's fantastic that you're going to get some more photography out of your temporary change of location! I hope the birds will sit still long enough for you, at least some of the time :) And it's nice to see Henri again, and so early in the year too! I thought he migrated south for warmer climes in Winter.... And his choice of pets – well, I suppose it's only to be expected.

The Aviary
Jocelyn bit down on her fist and did her best not to scream. Why did so many words in English have to be so difficult and look so much like each other? Apparantly, bees lived in an apiary not an aviary, so Lord Farquhar was going to be displeased with her – again. And only now did she notice that the birds in here were called bee-eaters....

morganna said...

The beautiful birds flash through the trees calling to each other. The little girl reaches out her hand, but none land on her. She giggles anyway. All too soon, we reach the other end of the path, and our visit to the aviary is over.

Anonymous said...

Your piece is very chilling, Marc. I swear I got goosebumps just thinking about what Henri's companion could be thinking. As for the birds surrounding your house, I think you should take photos.

The Aviary:

A palate of colors, both mundane and exotic, was the only way she could describe it. Wings of the softest silk and velvet flittered around the cage as if essential dancers moving to the tune of an ancient folk song. The colors flew across her vision, making it so that she was forced to focus her sage eyes on a single form or else be unable to distinguish one from the many. This chaos wrapped in arrangement, while the most enchanting thing she had ever laid eyes one, caused her to ache with wanting to be a part of something greater than herself.

Marc said...

Greg - if they sit still for me at all I'll be happy :P

Ooh, those are very pretty birds! An unfortunate mistake for Jocelyn, perhaps, but I'd be happy to have a visit with my camera :)

Morganna - I really like that she giggles anyway. A small detail that nicely captures the experience.

Ivybennet - thanks! I think :P

And don't you worry, I will certainly be out there trying to capture them on film.

Beautiful piece of writing from you today. Great imagery and it ends on that perfect emotional note. Very nicely done.