The Seagull

I can hear it now, crashing in the distance though I have never seen it.

The gull flies over us, blown inland by the storm. I see her there, searching the ground for clues, looking for the way back home. I can see the strain in her eyes. I can see how tired she is. The sun reflects off her feathers and casts a glow into the forest. She cries out to her friends. She searches the air for them. They were separated in the storm and now she is alone. She wanders, locked in by the land, looking for a way out.

The hawk flies up to meet her. They fly side by side for a moment and she changes direction. She flies back the way she came, set now on the right course.

I hear it as she wanders back to her home. I hear the water washing onto the shore. I hear it bring the sand with it. I hear it take the sand away. I see an image in my mind and imagine the sun setting over the waters. I imagine the light and the shadows. I imagine the colors of the sea. I imagine the smell and the feel the breeze drifting over the water. I feel my branches tingling in the scent. I feel the air and look out into the open. I am unguarded by my neighbors for the first time.

I stand alone on the shore and look out. I feel the sand around my roots. I feel the water seeping in. I taste the salt and sing as it burns my veins. It is fire.

I look out across the water and see rocks rising out of the currents. I see the gull flying to them, coming home.