We had a wonderful, sad, happy send-off to Abby E. Murray last night at the Colorado Springs Writers Reading Series. We wished her the best and gave her a standing ovation as a small token of our love and appreciation for her work in supporting and encouraging writers in our community. I would not want you to miss her new publication,
Quick Draw: Poems from a Soldier’s Wife, so please order your copy today from
Finishing Line Press.
On another CSWRS note: I recently finished reading Tim Christian's delightful tale
The Strange and Thrilling Adventures of James Charles Fogarty. Tim is a favorite reader at CSWRS primarily because his writing is just so good. This tale is reminiscent of Mark Twain in its humor and use of language, with a good measure of strangely accessible science fiction. Just a good, fun read. Get it now at
Lulu.com.
Last night I read my short story that was born out of a second wave of invasive Spring moths. I noticed something odd about the birds during these two invasions. They had an alarming reprieve of their usual cautiousness. This story is a reworking of my own irritation regarding moths to the jubilant abandonment of the birds regarding moths.
Robin
Rudy
arrived in the spring. This was his fourth spring. He felt a little weary and
worn and longed for a good rest. He was glad it was near sunset. Tomorrow, yes
tomorrow would be a good day -- he just knew it. He
sidled into a giant Ponderosa pine, hoping he would not take up another's
space. He would settle in more tomorrow, but for now he just needed to rest.
"Oh,
excuse me!" A quiet exclamation touched him as an equally weary and new
neighbor shuffled in next to him.
"’Sat
you Rudy?"
"Yeah.
Yeah." Rudy could barely reply as he blinked very slowly. "’Sat you,
Bud?"
"Yeah.
G’night, Rudy."
"Goodnight,
Bud."
The
two fell into a deep slumber, unaware of the other visitors stumbling weakly
onto their commandeered perches. Everyone made room.
Rudy
woke to a morning ruckus. Birds everywhere were scrambling over each other,
dodging short and long talons, and some were very nearly screaming. Rudy
twitched his head to knock the sleep out and then heard the word -- the word
that could make any traveler lose his ever loving mind – moths! A small sparrow
dashed in among the branches. "Moths! Great gobs of moths!" There was
a rather hysterical look in its eye.
Rudy
had been raised right. He scuttled as quickly as he could to the end of the
limb, trying desperately not to be rude or harm anyone. But the raging hunger
he felt nearly drove him to distraction. He could hear his mother's sweet
voice. "Take your time, Rudy. There's always enough for everyone." He
closed his eyes briefly and took a deep, cleansing breaths.
"Ruthy!"
A muffled and urgent voice compelled him to open his eyes. "You gotha geth outh there!" Bud
was trying to talk with the tattered edge of a moth wing sticking out of his
beak. He clapped his beak several more times and then swallowed hard.
"Rudy,
I've never seen anything like it!" Tears were in Bud's eyes, tears of
absolute joy.
With
as much reserve as he could muster, Rudy spoke carefully to his friend.
"Okay, okay. I'm coming." But as calm as he was on the exterior,
Rudy's heart was leaping up into his throat. Bud dashed away and a panorama of
splendor opened up before Rudy. The air felt alive with movement -- erratic,
chaotic movement. Moths covered tree trunks, windows, roofs, sidewalks and
streets. Some were fluttering madly without compasses. Some were bouncing off
of cars and buildings. Kamikaze moths careened to their deaths in mad lunacy. It
was unbelievable!
Rudy
mumbled in awe, "Mama told me about this." Then with a kind of
madness he would not soon forget, he plunged into the feast. No one cared much
of wings clipped or feet brushing backs or bodies spiraling through the air.
There were moths -- gobs and gobs of moths!
Suddenly
the long migration seemed like a distant dream. Suddenly the weariness of bone transformed
into explosive energy toward consuming as many moths as he could. Be gone his
mother's soft voice! This was a feast!
The
next few hours were lost to Rudy. Later
he could not remember the balance of that day.
He felt a great discomfort about his middle. When he glanced down he
could see his distended redbreast and he groaned with put-upon shame. His
signature dip-step-step-up, had been replaced with a tip-waddle-waddle-waddle.
This should have alarmed him, except his response time was slowed by the
influence of gluttony. His mother's more urgent and alarmed voice finally came
to him again. "Beware the cats of spring!" Rudy took three lumbering
steps and then beat his wings into flight.
He landed solidly on the next to the lowest branch in the nearest tree.
Rudy
woke in the middle of the night with the wind and rain and hail lashing at the
tree. He clenched his toes tighter around the branch and took a deep contented
breath. A huge grin would have spread
across his face if he could grin like the humans. He knew in the morning there
would be another ruckus and some wild-eyed sparrow would dash into the trees
screaming "Worms!"
Copyright M.R. Hyde 2012
