The ibis take flight
as the sun rises from the horizon.
White bodies contrast
against coral colored clouds.
They make no sound
except for feathery flaps
of their wings.
Off to start their day
in search of breakfast
amid blue skies.
What do you crave first thing in the morning?
Part Three
Suzy walked out the front door, carrying her pack, and made a beeline for the picnic table where Steve was. It was a late summer afternoon, and she was ready for a short adventure.
Steve was ready to head out, standing there with his hikers on. This afternoon they were going to explore their own backyard so to speak. Suzy reached for his hand as she walked by. “Come on, let’s go.”
He resisted a moment, pulling her just hard enough that she stepped back closer to him, and planted a kiss on her lips. “Okay, now we can go.”
Suzy chuckled a little as she turned to lead Steve to the edge of the stream. The former owners left a plank across to the conservation area which bordered their property.
Suzy pretended to be walking a tightrope, extending her hands out to each side as she crossed then hopped off the end and turned to take a bow.
Steve rolled his eyes, but also laughed. Sometime Suzy could be a nut. He finished crossing as well, then took the lead.
They had found a trail marker not long after moving in, but today was the first time they journeyed out on it. Steve knew about the area, he had already looked up details about it including elevation changes and other conditions, but the trail was still new to both of them.
Suzy stayed back, tracing Steve’s step as best as her shorter legs could. The trail was easy at first, with trees shading their walk and keeping them protected from the summer sun. They happened upon a couple of craggy points, but nothing too major.
The trail for the most part paralleled the stream and the water was typically in their sights. Eventually they came to a fork in the trail, one continued up stream, the other turned up a steep hill.
“So, which way, Suzy?”
She smiled. “Up!”
Steve was a little shocked; the trail along the stream was smooth sailing, but there was no telling where the other fork led.
Suzy just kept on smiling as they both found their own ways to scramble up the small incline. Little did Steve know, there was a surprise ahead. Suzy read about it in one of the letters left behind from a previous resident.
They continued to make their way on the trail when they came to a clearing. It was only a short walk from the house, but Steve stopped in amazement. He walked out to the middle of the clearing and turned around.
From here, they had a clear view of the sky above as well as the Rockies. In the field stood a small bald atop a rocky crag climbing out from the grassy field.
Suzy took Steve by the hand, “Come, let’s check it out!”
Together, they climbed up the rock jutting out from the ground. It reminded her of Garden of the Gods a bit. When they reached the top, she removed her pack and set up their dinner while Steve looked around.
“Come, sit. I have a light so we can get home later.” She patted a spot next to her as he walked back her way. The sun was still above the mountains giving them plenty of time to eat and relax before heading back.
Suzy and Steve found themselves surrounded by nature. They looked over the field below and a small fawn found its way into the clearing. The sky slowly started to change colors as the sun headed towards the mountain tops.
Suzy mused aloud, “I never thought we’d get here.”
Steve looked at her, perplexed. It wasn’t that far from the house. She recognized his befuddlement.
“No, not here. But here, together.” She rocked her feet back and forth, a habit since she was a small child. It calmed her. “It’s like some dream at times.”
Steve just smiled at her with a Cheshire grin. “I never doubted it.”
He leaned in for a kiss, but she resisted for a moment. She wouldn’t let him stay puckered up for too long though.
They continued to share and talk. In the quiet moments they pointed out the birds and watched the skies as the sun settled. Soon, the stars came out then they heard a not too pleasant sound rummaging through the field below.
Steve took the light and quickly scanned the field. He turned to Suzy and with a finger across his lips whispered “Bear.”
Suzy’s eyes grew and she became a little uneasy. Steve patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Black bear, not grizzly.” He turned off the light and allowed their eyes to adjust to the twilight sky. He pointed in the bear’s direction.
They watched the bear wander through the field. Suzy quickly closed up their food containers, worried he was drawn here by their smell. Then she moved it away from the two of them, as if the bear was headed their way.
Steve shook his head, but kept an eye on the bear until he wandered out of view and back off in another direction.
Once the concern had passed, Steve laid out on the blanket and put his arm behind his head as a rest, watching the stars. “We may never need to go camping elsewhere. This is perfect. Did you know it was here?”
“I read about it in one of Lottie Baird’s letters. Apparently she wrote her husband about finding it when he was away during the Korean War. His letters were in the box.”
“Do you know if he made it home?” Steve asked, reflecting on his own time in service.
Suzy curled up next to him and hugged him. “Yes, he did. They had two girls when he returned.”
Steve interlaced his fingers from his free hand with hers. “Thank you for finding this place, for dreaming it for us.”
She leaned up and kissed him sweetly.
This morning, I drove by our local pool store, like I do every morning. However, this morning it brought back fond memories…
I was the Chlorine Girl starting at the age of nine. For three years, I worked for my folks after school, on weekends and during summers as they set up and ran various pool stores in sunny Florida. Child labor laws? Ha! Not when it’s family! Honestly, it was a fun job for 50 cents an hour. I did more than just fill chlorine jugs…but boy, did I fill jugs!
Customers would come in, greet my Dad or Mom and bring their empties back to me. I would fill them up and place them on the cart, then wheel them up to the register when they were ready. To this day, I can not stand the smell of chlorine!
It was always fun when our customers would bring in pool water samples. I felt like a little chemist, measuring out the water into the vials, adding drops, shaking it, then reading out the results. Sometimes it’s the nerdy things I did that make me smile!
On the flip side, I would also pretend to be this grand host, putting on the best of the best poolside parties. We sold patio furniture and all those outdoor housewares…Tervis, Stotter Ware, napkins and such. I learned different ways to fold napkins and created all sorts of ways to make tablescapes. It was silly girl fun, and probably why I have our dining room set with napkins and placemats to this day!
If I wasn’t working while at the store, I was doing homework either at one of the tables if it were quiet or back in the office. Working was way more fun! Good times…
Well, thanks for letting me journey down memory lane a bit today. Have a great one!
Part Two
Moving day arrived. Suzy and Steve were combining their two separate lives into a single home and boxes were everywhere. Suzy had come across country, so her lot was not quite as large as it once was. Most of it she’d left behind except those items which really meant something to her, plus clothes and her kitchen gadgets.
They had decided on new furniture for their bedroom and the living room. New memories were to be made here, a new life, together. So, of course, the furniture delivery truck arrived as the movers were still offloading their boxes. The crews kept getting in each others’ ways.
Suzy and Steve looked at each other. Days like this used to be stressful for Suzy. She wondered if they had been for him too. Tempers could easily flare up when things don’t run smoothly, but they just smiled at each other. Some frustration here and there, but none towards each other.
She picked up a box and headed toward the attic stairs which were pulled down from the ceiling. When she reached the top, she fumbled about a bit, finally finding the light switch. The light spilled across the attic. A couple dusty boxes from the previous owners still resided here. She set the box in her hands down and carefully walked across the attic floor to one of the boxes.
Atop the box was a white envelope with the inscription – For Our House’s Next Family. She realized the box was meant for them to find from what she suspected was one of the previous owners. She blew off the dust and picked up the letter and the box, then carried it back down stairs.
“Hey, aren’t we trying to put boxes away?” Steve teased her as he took the box from her.
“Of course, but this isn’t our box. It was already in the attic. It had this note on it for us.” She looked at him a little puzzled, but also with excitement. “Who doesn’t love a good surprise?”
She heard a thud from the front door and looked around Steve. “Here, hold this. I want to make sure the couch is in the right place.”
He shook his head and walked over to the kitchen counter, resting the box there, among all the dishes and kitchenware, then followed her back into the living room.
“Thanks, guys! That’s perfect!” She had them position the sofa so they could look at the fireplace, while being able to glimpse out one of the windows to the view outside.
The delivery service and the moving guys all pulled away finally after unloading everything. Steve quietly sat down on the sofa and kicked up his feet. “Ahh, peace and quiet.”
She smiled at him and wandered back into the kitchen, retrieving the box from the attic. “Let’s take a look at this. I don’t want any scary ghosts visiting us overnight just because we didn’t get warned!” She laughed as she opened the letter.
To the new family,
Welcome to Snowy Owl Lane. This land has been occupied off and on for centuries. We added our history and even traced the land’s ownership as far back as we could. If you are like us, you may start to see a pattern.
“Well, okay, this sounds a little spooky,” she looked at him with a smirk.
Don’t worry, there are no scary ghosts or monsters here to haunt you. But there are wonderful memories from the past and hopefully many more to be made.
The enclosed books share details about each family who resided here. This information has been passed down through the years from owner to owner.
Welcome home!
Sincerely,
The Miller Family
Suzy opened the box and found volumes of journals, letters, and photo albums from several families, along with a timeline of the land’s ownership drawn on aged paper which looked like the old green bar used in dot-matrix printers. The mustiness of the age of the books wafted through the air. The house was not as old as most of these books.
Suzy never was any kind of historian, but the box had her intrigued. She gently pulled out one of the photo albums with a brown aged leather cover and sat down next to Steve. They opened it up to find a faded sepia-toned photo of a couple with names written in fine calligraphy beneath it on the first page.
Sylvia and Hirsch Miller – 1915
She looked over their photo and Steve leaned in for a better look. The photo was faded, but there was something familiar about it for both of them. The woman had a classic dress suit on, and the gentleman held a hat and was dressed in his Sunday finest; they both appeared to be in their late forties or early fifties, but it was hard to tell their ages.
“Wow, I don’t think that letter is from 1915…. odd their last name was also Miller, don’t you think?” Suzy paused a moment, looking at the photo more. “Do you think she looks like….” her voice trailed off. “Nah, it must be because it is so faded. Right?” She got chills looking at the photograph.
He looked at her half-heartedly agreeing with her. “Nope, I don’t see anything familiar there.” Steve was lying through his teeth though. He couldn’t really believe that he saw his own great-grandfather’s face in that picture, someone he resembled. Except, his great-grandfather’s name was not Hirsch nor Miller.
Before going any further, Suzy decided to put it aside. “I think we’ll just let this sit for a bit. I’m going to go unpack the kitchen boxes.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Then I’ll figure out something for dinner.”
He nodded and got up, following her. “Break’s over, I guess. I’ll go work on the bedroom. I think we’ll sleep well tonight.” He smacked her on the butt as he walked by, making her giggle, then disappeared down the hall.
Suzy finished up in the kitchen as the light faded from outside. She realized they had fixings for sandwiches and soup, but not much else yet. She wandered down the hall. No noise came from their new bedroom. She paused at the door and looked around. The bed was made and candles lit the room.
Steve was napping on the bed. She leaned against the door frame and watched him a moment. She was just amazed that they were finally here. She slipped out of her jeans and crawled into bed with him, snuggling into the crook of his arm.
Steve stirred from his nap and played with Suzy’s brown and silver hair. She looked up at him. “Sandwiches okay for dinner?” He smiled at her with love in his eyes. “I’d rather have you,” he softly crooned. Then he tilted her chin up to his face and kissed her, then rolled her on her back.
She caressed his back as he slowly made love to her for the first time in their bed under their roof. The night came upon them as they continued to rediscover each other as if it were their first time together. The candles burned out that night and they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms.
I was born this way, a lefty. My grandparents grew up in a time where lefties were considered touched by demons. In their generation, they would force lefties to only use their right hand. So, my mother is ambidextrous. But for me, there was hope.
Life in the righty world can be hard for lefties. So much is rigged against us. Scissors are made backwards. School chairs are made with the arm rests on the right. Even the games we play work better if you’re a righty. Rumor has it, lefties have more accidents just because we exist in a right-handed world.
That’s just what the world offers. So, lefties, we adapt. Some of my adaptations appear strange to the outside world. Others often go unnoticed as I’ve worked hard to blend in. I’m always amazed when someone sees me sign a document and proclaim to those around us, “Wow! You’re a lefty!”
I just smile and continue on.
Spiral notebooks are the devil for us. But I still love them. Instead of my paper being straight out or slightly angled to the left, I place it almost perpendicular to my body when I write. It’s the only way I can reduce ink getting all over my hands.
Those school desks? Well, when I would arrive to class, I would turn it 90 degrees, just so I could pay attention to the teacher and write my notes. It always bothered me when a teacher would make me “sit straight”… they didn’t understand the adaptation wasn’t showing off, and I’d typically not do quite as well in their class than if they’d just let me be.
Scissors can still be a challenge for me, even in my forties. It depends on what I’m cutting. And don’t get me started on “lefty” scissors…they are worse than suffering through the “normal” version, and were probably designed by a righty!
But, there is one great saying that comes from being a lefty….we’re in our right mind. Oh, I wish that were really true, but we all know the reality, don’t we?
Happy Sunday!
Part One
In the foothills of the Rockies lied a small gravel road. To one side, a grove of trees stood tall. An old set of posts with rusted barbed wire strands ran along the main road in front of the grove, then suddenly stopped at the corner of the gravel road. To the other side, a meadow spread over a hill where wild flowers grew in late spring and early summer.
Suzy and Steve pulled up and stopped their car on the main road, looking over the plot of land. An old sign marking it for sale hung haphazardly from its one remaining chain and clanged against the pole. The location had a view she loved. The Rockies rose from behind what appeared to be a wooded area at the back of the plot. She had painted a similar place, crudely, from her imagination years earlier.
They decided to explore the land, driving down the road and hitting a pothole now and then. The road took a small turn to the left before it ended. They stopped, and they stared. A simple home with a garage sat way back, hidden from the view from the main road by the small hill where the flowers grew. The trees at the back of the property shaded a small creek running along side.
It was exactly as Suzy imagined. It was perfect. She wondered how she imagined this place so accurately all those years ago.
They climbed out of their vehicle and walked over to the babbling water. Small fairy-like pools where they could relax dotted the creek and overall it was shallow with a rocky and sandy bottom. A weathered picnic table sat nearby with a perfect view. She envisioned adding a hammock for them to cuddle in under the shade on relaxing summer days.
Steve stepped behind her and rubbed her shoulders. “This is the place, isn’t it?” he whispered in her ear.
She crossed one of her arms and held his hand as she shook her head yes. “I think so.”
She led him over to the house, checking out the outdoor setup for cooking out, then walked around the home, peeking in the windows. The house was fairly modern, with a great kitchen and a perfect living area. A porch stretched around three sides of the home with plenty of room for outdoor seating.
Suzy’s face gave it all away. She knew this is where they should be. But she was not sure he was convinced. She wanted them both to feel it, to know it’s where they belonged. She knew how it felt to be a stranger in your own home, so it was important to her that Steve felt connected as well.
They got back into the car, and drove back towards the main road to head back to the city. Suzy watched the wildflowers waving in the wind, almost as if they said come back soon. She looked back in the side mirror at the house fading away in the distance.
Steve stopped the vehicle suddenly. The brakes strained under the pressure, and gravel scattered. They both sat in awe of what they saw in front of them. A snowy owl perched on the pole at the corner where the gravel met the pavement. Steve looked at her and slowly spoke in an amazed tone, “This is it. This is home. Let’s make an offer.”
This is Snowy Owl Lane.
I’m working on something new, but it’s not quite ready to share.
Keep those creative juices flowing and your imagination running wild!
~DRM
The little girl waddled up the snow pile, protected from head to toe.
Her snowsuit was thick, making it hard to bend her arms and legs.
Her little red disk bounced against the snow as she drug it up the hill.
She reached the top, ready to head down, seeking a fun little thrill.
Her dad hollered from below, make sure you stay in the snow.
The divots were slick and iced over, more for the older kids.
She sat down on the red disk and pushed herself off.
Holding on tight, she skidded down. The ride was a little rough.
But she finished it and said she wanted to go again.
So she waddled up the hill and prepared herself once more.
She started herself off in the powdery white snow,
But veered off course, gripping tight her handles, oh no!
She slid into a divot, iced over and hard,
The sled bucked into the air and crashed down,
Then rocketed off super fast and broke free,
Only finally stopping when it hit a tree.
You’re okay, you’re okay her father screamed,
Half reassuring himself, half scared out of his wits.
She giggled, all was okay from head to toe.
But the sled broke, no longer fit for snow.
Another installment for my Christmas in July. Hope you enjoyed it!
Henry looked at Charlotte. “I’m not your father, Charlotte. Please have a seat and I’ll explain.”
Charlotte became nervous as she watched him walk around the living area and took a seat.
“Please, Charlotte, sit.” His voice was as forceful and forthright as her own father.
Slowly, without taking her eyes off of him, she lowered herself back to the sofa. She stared at him intently. How is this man not my father? He looks so much like him.
“Your mind is probably reeling. My family used to own all the land around Cygnet Lake several generations ago. As with everything, time changes all. We held on to this small plot as well as full access around Cygnet Lake.”
Henry continued to explain to Charlotte the details he could provide. He then moved into the topic of her appearance. “I’m not sure why, but you are not the first, nor do I suspect, the last of our family to move through time. It is why they insisted Cygnet Lake stay within the family as the surrounding properties were sold off.
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “I never heard of this time travel phenomenon. Do any of them ever return to their time?”
Henry folded his hands and looked down, then back at Charlotte. “I am not sure. See, we’re still putting the pieces together here. We have met two others before you, but have never found any record of them in the family records. It was almost as if they never existed. Both tried to go back, but we don’t know if they made it.
Charlotte stared off into the flickering light from the fake fireplace. “I miss home.”
Sarah took a seat next to Charlotte and gently took her hand. “You are the youngest who have visited us. Don’t give up hope. We will do everything we can to get you back home.”
Charlotte took a ragged breath. “Has anyone decided to stay in the time they travel to? Do you know?”
Sarah glanced over to Henry. Henry shook his head No swiftly. Charlotte noted that it was almost too quick of a response, but dismissed her concern as quickly as she thought it.
“So, is there any mention of me in the family history you’ve gathered?”
Henry looked at her a moment. “I’ll have to look. I tend to focus on the people we meet that travel here. Since we just found you, and now that we know your name, I’m hoping you can help us as much as I hope we will help you.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Anything we can do to put the pieces together. I love puzzles!”
Sarah smiled, then looked up at the clock. “I need to go to town for some things. Charlotte, I will get you some clothes that are more appropriate for our time, and your age.” Sarah stood up, gathered her purse and keys, and headed for the door. “Henry, do you want anything?”
Henry stood up and walked over to the door, kissing Sarah on the cheek. “No, my love. We’ll be here when you get back.”
As Sarah drove away, Charlotte watched out of the window. Her eyes grew big as a white vehicle pulled away. “What is that?” She glanced over at Henry.
He just smiled. “Oh, that’s a truck. There are a lot of mechanized things now in this time. Like this fireplace, even the stove.”
Charlotte was lost in wonder. “I could see why someone might want to stay. These automatic things are great!” She sunk back in the sofa. “How is this cottage staying cool? Shouldn’t it be warmer.”
Henry opened the refrigerator and pour them both some cold tea to drink. “It’s called air conditioning. It keeps the air cool or hot, depending on how you need it to keep the place.” He handed her a glass and she took a sip.
“I like it. I could get used to all of this.” She smiled. She thought she was progressive for her time, maybe she just needed to find her time instead.
I’m going back and picking up a few neglected stories from the past few months. I hope you enjoy the continuation of the Swans in the Mist.
Reposted from April, 2021 – Refresher for Part Three
Charlotte startled herself awake. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. Nothing looked familiar. The walls were made of wood logs. The crackling fire in front of her looked unreal, no wood, no flame, just warmth, a glowing light and a tinny sound.
She sat up and realized her clothes had been changed. Some sort of odd tartan patterned button down in what looked like a dressing gown.
“Oh good. You’re awake!” a sweet voice spoke to her from behind. She was startled to hear another person’s voice, full of a strange drawl. “Henry, she’s awake!” she called out. “Here dear, have some tea. I’m Sarah,” she stated as she sat in the neighboring chair, handing her a cuppa with cream and sugar.
Charlotte took a sip. The tea was way stronger than she was used to. “Wow, what type of tea is this? How did I get here? Where are my clothes?”
Sarah smiled and understood her confusion. Charlotte wasn’t the first visitor they had entertained. “First, dear, what is your name? Then I’ll answer all the questions I can.”
“My name is Charlotte. Now, answer my questions please!” Charlotte looked down, then felt her left thigh. Sarah saw her reach for her dagger.
“Hi Charlotte. My name is Sarah. Don’t worry first of all. Your dagger is safely stored, for all of our safety. I found it when I unraveled your tattered dress from your legs. The fabric was wrapped around your leg quite tight and we were concerned it would harm you. Unfortunately, your skirt will not be salvagable. Your blouse and bloomers are in the wash.” Sarah drew out the word wash, it sounded more like warsh. “Don’t worry, Henry turned around. He didn’t see anything. We girls need to stick together.”
Charlotte was apprehensive, but Sarah seemed genuine. Sarah was dressed simply, some sort of soft clothed shirt and dungarees, nothing Charlotte had ever seen a woman wear. Sarah seemed to be in her forties, grey streaks ran through her dark curly and short hair.
“As for the tea, it is a Chai Latte with vanilla. Do you like it?”
Charlotte smiled, “It is more flavorful than what I normally drink.”
Sarah flashed a knowing smile. “And, to how you got here…we are not sure. We found you out by Cygnet Lake. You were passed out on the bench and looked to be in rough shape. We brought you home to help.”
“Home? My family owns the land in this area, acres of it. Are you one of our neighbors?” Charlotte grew confused.
Sarah smiled faintly. She hated this part of discussions with their visitors. She needed backup to help Charlotte understand. “Henry, could you join me please?”
The clunk of boots came down the hall. Six-foot three Henry entered the room. Charlotte stood and turned to greet him. In front of her stood a handsome man in his forties with short graying hair with her father’s face.
Dawn Renee Writes 