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  • Writer's pictureSam Palmer

A Symphony

The light of the slow rising morning sun coaxed my eyes open. I waited for a moment, finally hearing the gentle sound of violins and piano. Ah, today would be a good day. The layer of feathers and linen rustled beneath me as I reached my arms above my head, stretching my body the length of the nest. Sitting up, I rubbed my shoulders feeling the cool morning air against my skin before scooting to the edge of the nest. The sky was deep purple and blue, but where the sun was cresting was the most magnificent orange. The music began to play louder.


Gripping the edge of the nest, I peered back over my shoulder and saw two sleepy eyes looking at me. I smiled and reached out my arm, beckoning him to my side.

"Shhh," I whispered "Don't wake your sisters."

Elias nodded quietly and stood, stepping gently over the legs of his sleeping siblings. Still wrapped in the soft linen that filled the nest, he snuggled into me and we both watched the sun climb higher.

"Where is that music coming from?"

"You can hear that?" I looked down at him.

"Yes. What is it?" his little brows furrowed as he looked up at me.

I smiled and pulled him closer, only slightly surprised. "I had a feeling you'd be the one. That music is the sound of a new day, Elias. The sun plays it for us all, but it is a rare gift to be able to hear it."

"What does the music mean?"

"Well, it means you are special. It means you can understand the earth. The mountains, the sky, the sun, the moon, the water. They all speak to us. But not every one can understand them. It's like a very very old language, long forgotten and no longer teachable. You are either able to hear it, or not."

"You can hear it?"

I nodded and closed my eyes listening to the symphony begin play louder as the sun's first rays rose above the mountains and kissed our faces. I nuzzled into his hair, still mussed from sleep feeling his small body tremble as he leaned into the warmth.

"What does it mean? That we can hear this and nobody else can?"

"It means that we must act as translators and spread the messages we hear to those who cannot." He nodded slowly, his eyes sparkling in the sun.


I turned to see my other children waking and joining us at the nest's edge, their curly hair bouncing with their excited movement at the morning.

"We fly now, Mama?" Salina's melodic little voice chimed.

I reached down and took Salina's small hand in my left, and Astrid's hand in my right. Elias let the linen blanket fall to the soft floor of the nest, staring determinedly at the horizon while he stretched his small wings. The little white feathers glowed in the morning sun and I smiled standing and stretching out my own massive wings that reached far beyond the nest.

"Alright, my angels. Let's fly."

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