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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Adventure
- Published: 05/29/2012
Angels with Wings
Born 1948, F, from Warren, OR, United StatesToday is Memorial Day. I’ve been to the Abbey and placed flowers in the stands for my parents and two sisters. It’s now afternoon and I’m weeding in my garden. The clouds periodically block the sun, so it’s not too hot. The weather guy says 65 for today’s high. It’s not there yet, but I’m comfortable in my long sleeved shirt and jeans. I pick gardening today because it’s mindless yet rewarding; the results of my work will be apparent and satisfying at the end of the day.
I become aware of the charming song of a bird in the tree above me. When I finally spot the bird, it’s a Robin. The Robin continues to sing to me for half an hour. I move in slow motion, comforted by the melody, continuing my gardening tasks.
The Robin seems to want more attention than I’m giving it, so it hops to the top of the trellis with the clematis canopy of white flowers, and seemingly increases its volume. I can’t help it. I thank it for singing to me on this sad day. I’m missing my parents and my sisters - missing the laughter and the conversations we had. Mom’s passing last November was the last of the four.
I talk to the Robin, who is still perched on the trellis and tell it how much I appreciate the serenade. It’s not lost on me that one of my sister’s name was Robin. I talk to Robins a lot. I feel comfortable telling the Robin that she would love the young man her son has become and the wonderful wife he now has. How proud she would be that he works with mentally challenged children and helps teach them activities of daily living so they can be part of and contribute to society. It sings a few more happy notes, then leaves.
Suddenly two doves land in the cedar tree beside me. They begin their haunting co-coo-co volley. I love the sound; it reminds me of the vacations we spent as a family in Hawaii. Every morning we woke to the sound of the doves welcoming a new day. Today, they also sing to me for longer than usual before they take flight together. It seems they have a lot of information to impart with their limited vocabulary.
I’m smiling by now, because it is a glorious day. I feel in touch with nature and content. I’m sitting on the ground and weeding beneath a group of delphinium that is stunning with its deep purple and blue shades. A hummingbird darts beside me and even though I’m only a foot away, takes it time drinking from the throat of the farthest stalk. It finishes its feast and stops before me midair, its wings whirring. I sense it looking into my soul. Then it takes off as fast as it appeared.
My garden has become a special place of beauty and solace today because I’ve been blessed by the presence of these angels with wings.
Angels with Wings(Linda McMann)
Today is Memorial Day. I’ve been to the Abbey and placed flowers in the stands for my parents and two sisters. It’s now afternoon and I’m weeding in my garden. The clouds periodically block the sun, so it’s not too hot. The weather guy says 65 for today’s high. It’s not there yet, but I’m comfortable in my long sleeved shirt and jeans. I pick gardening today because it’s mindless yet rewarding; the results of my work will be apparent and satisfying at the end of the day.
I become aware of the charming song of a bird in the tree above me. When I finally spot the bird, it’s a Robin. The Robin continues to sing to me for half an hour. I move in slow motion, comforted by the melody, continuing my gardening tasks.
The Robin seems to want more attention than I’m giving it, so it hops to the top of the trellis with the clematis canopy of white flowers, and seemingly increases its volume. I can’t help it. I thank it for singing to me on this sad day. I’m missing my parents and my sisters - missing the laughter and the conversations we had. Mom’s passing last November was the last of the four.
I talk to the Robin, who is still perched on the trellis and tell it how much I appreciate the serenade. It’s not lost on me that one of my sister’s name was Robin. I talk to Robins a lot. I feel comfortable telling the Robin that she would love the young man her son has become and the wonderful wife he now has. How proud she would be that he works with mentally challenged children and helps teach them activities of daily living so they can be part of and contribute to society. It sings a few more happy notes, then leaves.
Suddenly two doves land in the cedar tree beside me. They begin their haunting co-coo-co volley. I love the sound; it reminds me of the vacations we spent as a family in Hawaii. Every morning we woke to the sound of the doves welcoming a new day. Today, they also sing to me for longer than usual before they take flight together. It seems they have a lot of information to impart with their limited vocabulary.
I’m smiling by now, because it is a glorious day. I feel in touch with nature and content. I’m sitting on the ground and weeding beneath a group of delphinium that is stunning with its deep purple and blue shades. A hummingbird darts beside me and even though I’m only a foot away, takes it time drinking from the throat of the farthest stalk. It finishes its feast and stops before me midair, its wings whirring. I sense it looking into my soul. Then it takes off as fast as it appeared.
My garden has become a special place of beauty and solace today because I’ve been blessed by the presence of these angels with wings.
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