Elisabeth loved to feed the birds. She loved to hear them singing in her garden after a lusty lunch of sunflower seeds and suet. Their brilliant plumage made her swoon. Their exotic chansons made her dance.
Her husband warned her not to feed the pigeons as they would chase away all other birds and take over the garden.
Elisabeth ignored him.
To her dismay, he was correct. The pigeons eventually took over, scaring, biting and eliminating the other birds.
Her garden was silent but for the squawking and screaming of the pigeons.
In desperation, Elisabeth implored the gods to help. She wanted her magical birds back.
The gods heard her plea. They sent two gigantic yellow birds, the size of small airplanes, to chase away the pigeons.
Once more, the song birds returned to the garden and it filled with their lyrical music. But Elisabeth wasn't there to hear it.
Zeus had long despaired of Aphrodite’s taste in garden décor, but when she nailed up a piece of giant cucumber for the cardboard cut-out birds to feed on, he knew he just had to check for signs of substance abuse.
So the sun sneezed out a huge solar flare, and gave the Earth a cold, said Tommy, 12 years old and currently the oldest human being alive.
Like sun snot? asked his sister, and giggled.
Yes, said Tommy. And all the volcanoes coughed up Earth snot into the air. And all the adults caught cold and died. And all the birds that were in the air at the time got really big.
Earth snot. That's gross. She giggled again.
And the giant birds enslaved us and made us do their bidding.
Like what?
Not much. Get em worms and stuff. Bird're pretty easy to please. All in all it was a fair trade.
I'm sowing the wonderful seeds of April, for Logan this is obviously designed as a play-activity and he unearths them again with his chasing and pouncing...
btw. your book arrived on Friday, I love it - congratulations, its marvellous.
Once the circus was forbidden for all of us, inhabitants of the Empire, our lives became dull, something startded fading. Yet we know it was noble to interdict pleasures derived from pain. No more slaves and lions, then. Some far away small villages had their own ways anyway. Mother always took us to the court at feeding time. We fed so many birds that certainly it became a noticeable matter. People here feed birds in silece, for hours and hours, as if they feeding souls, phantoms, who knows. They are the eldest of the town. We keep on running and laughing, and birds and crikets signing, but our noisy presence is kindered, old people simile to doves.
The silk birds had come to gather threads for their nests. They pulled and tugged at the seams and gathered the fabric depicting an old classic garden...
Not a story just a stream of consciousness... green... pomegranate...Persephone...underworld...two immortal birds... this could go on and on-this image certainly triggers imagination!
My name is Susan Sanford. I pursue the arts in Northern California -Welcome to my free-associative visual journey . I don't do memes or accept awards or ads, but I frequently link to other bloggers if I see something delightful. All photographs and artwork here were made by me unless otherwise noted- please respect my copyright (this includes posting any images on facebook- my understanding is that they claim ownership of photos posted there).
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18 comments:
Elisabeth loved to feed the birds. She loved to hear them singing in her garden after a lusty lunch of sunflower seeds and suet. Their brilliant plumage made her swoon. Their exotic chansons made her dance.
Her husband warned her not to feed the pigeons as they would chase away all other birds and take over the garden.
Elisabeth ignored him.
To her dismay, he was correct. The pigeons eventually took over, scaring, biting and eliminating the other birds.
Her garden was silent but for the squawking and screaming of the pigeons.
In desperation, Elisabeth implored the gods to help. She wanted her magical birds back.
The gods heard her plea. They sent two gigantic yellow birds, the size of small airplanes, to chase away the pigeons.
Once more, the song birds returned to the garden and it filled with their lyrical music. But Elisabeth wasn't there to hear it.
The gigantic birds had eaten her.
The garden
Whoah, Dude...
California Girl wrote a brilliant story! She had a grand illustration to spark her vivid imaginings.
Zeus had long despaired of Aphrodite’s taste in garden décor, but when she nailed up a piece of giant cucumber for the cardboard cut-out birds to feed on, he knew he just had to check for signs of substance abuse.
oh no, look out little birds!
I'm speechless.
"OI! CYCLOPS! KNOCK IT OFF WITH THE HAND-PUPPET TRICKS!"
"Hasn't he noticed the disadvantage of monocular vision? That's the third pigeon this week. Somebody get Odysseus."
Cali Girl's story rocked. Here's mine.
So the sun sneezed out a huge solar flare, and gave the Earth a cold, said Tommy, 12 years old and currently the oldest human being alive.
Like sun snot? asked his sister, and giggled.
Yes, said Tommy. And all the volcanoes coughed up Earth snot into the air. And all the adults caught cold and died. And all the birds that were in the air at the time got really big.
Earth snot. That's gross. She giggled again.
And the giant birds enslaved us and made us do their bidding.
Like what?
Not much. Get em worms and stuff. Bird're pretty easy to please. All in all it was a fair trade.
You miss Mom? she asked.
Who? he replied.
I'm sowing the wonderful seeds of April, for Logan this is obviously designed as a play-activity and he unearths them again with his chasing and pouncing...
btw. your book arrived on Friday, I love it - congratulations, its marvellous.
Titus and Clowncar - lovely, lovely stories
Once the circus was forbidden for all of us, inhabitants of the Empire, our lives became dull, something startded fading. Yet we know it was noble to interdict pleasures derived from pain. No more slaves and lions, then. Some far away small villages had their own ways anyway. Mother always took us to the court at feeding time. We fed so many birds that certainly it became a noticeable matter. People here feed birds in silece, for hours and hours, as if they feeding souls, phantoms, who knows. They are the eldest of the town. We keep on running and laughing, and birds and crikets signing, but our noisy presence is kindered, old people simile to doves.
Aleph, Yes, it is more comfortable at times to forget we are kindred -but we remain so.
J.J. - brief and pointed.
To the garden dwellers and the pigeons:
whatever you do...don't wiggle...
The silk birds had come to gather threads for their nests. They pulled and tugged at the seams and gathered the fabric depicting an old classic garden...
He said he loved her and this she believed for the giant birds from Alcatraz made an appearance just to confirm.
In Ancient Greece,
before the dawn of reason
pigeons became breakfast for geese
during the vineyard harvest season!
(Well, not a story by some rhyme)
Not a story just a stream of consciousness... green... pomegranate...Persephone...underworld...two immortal birds...
this could go on and on-this image certainly triggers imagination!
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