Clouds I was born three years ago by a 12 g egg, egg weight certainly respectable for a swallow. My mother, a swallow of 5 years, after I had made love with my father, who loves good-looking a swallow fluttering around all the swallows that present themselves. My mother cared for me during my entire childhood with love and kindness, and I remember with pleasure the warm nest where I grew up with my brothers, the body of my mother who covered his mouth to warm and that took us to eat worms.
I remember when there were a few days our first flight.
I'll never forget.
My mother was away in search of food, and we expect him to return. He did not return.
not returned.
my father was flying for us and one by one we threw out of the nest. My brothers, after a few meters of free fall, began to flutter wildly and with the first lot of uncertainty, then even better. Not me. I dropped to the ground. What leap of faith, without which no one had explained why I had to do, what would happen to me and what I tried, I was greatly frightened and I did not want to fly.
I was right, I did not feel the need, even if all my neighbors and I were in heaven above, I took them around to keep me company. They argued that, as had always been in nature, I had to be to fly to get from them. and constantly told me, from there, without even deigning to descend to make you feel better or listen to my reasons. And I did not feel the need to fly. On the ground already knew everything.
I knew as did the ants to carry their supplies for the winter, I knew that the caterpillars feed on leaves, I knew that when it rained my little legs would remain in the water because I could not get up in the air. But
I did not feel the need to fly.
fact, every time I decide to try, I was terribly alarmed, and immediately renounced.
was the father of a magpie, which had asked for a bit 'of the company, to mess up my life.
never told me to try to fly.
told me every day of the sky. I described the clouds seen from above, he said, have a completely different appearance, and told me of a young eagle who lost his mother when he had to make his first flight, scared he had never flown. Old was dead, knowing everything around him but never having seen how the clouds from above.
Ah, the clouds.
just had to be beautiful views from the top.
And as I told her that Dad magpie seemed to see them. My father had never spoken to me. Every time I hovered around the clouds but I had never spoken. My mom has not had the time.
Clouds.
I wanted to see the clouds.
Maybe it was not true that I did not feel the need to fly. Maybe I was afraid of flying. Learn to fly small is an instinct if done at the right time. Raised as I would have been a grueling indescribable. I asked Dad to help me try magpie.
I just wanted to see the clouds from above.
view of the clouds I could get back to continue my quiet life below the earth.
learned to fly.
climb up there, I immediately realized that the magpie had taken my dad around.
Yes, there were clouds and very beautiful, but compared to what you saw up there, the clouds were really the most insignificant. The trees, rivers. houses built by men who each gave off a different smell, the sun stroked my back and a feeling of life I was born for the second time. I would not have come back to earth. Now I could fly. I wanted to see Dad magpie and say thanks.
I looked.
was down to earth, telling of the clouds a dove who would not fly.
