In the beginning of the world, there was a bird, small and ugly, waddling on the ground, unaware it had wings. It sang to the blue skies, voice soaring and dipping, longing and magic-infused in every note. This went on for days and then weeks until the sky reached down and cradled the bird within its soft breeze. Blue seeped from one to the other, painting the bird’s feathers with color. The bird stuck out its chest and plumped up its feathers in gratitude, and the sky whispered, “come join me.” The bluebird’s wings carried its now beautiful body on the currents of wind, cradled once more by the sky. And to this day, the bluebird and the sky have remained the closest of friends.
Carmen’s photographic prints and merch are available for purchase at Fine Art America.
2 Replies to “Blue Like You”
Aahhhhh! Don’t think I’ll every photograph a bluebird and not think of this!
I’ve always thought the bird’s blue wings were the same color as the sky. Friends forever! Thanks for reading, Michelle.
Hinterland is Real
They say seeing is believing. I didn’t know what that meant until that night. I was coming home late, later than I should, and I knew I was going to catch heck. Momma didn’t even pretend to be patient when me or my sister wasn’t home in time for dinner.
Deadly Mist
The mist crept closer, slithering across the boot prints she left behind on the soft, moist ground. She urged her legs to go faster over the uneven path. A leafless tree grabbed at the flying strands of her long silver hair as she ran past. They hung like shiny tinsel
Path of the Dead
The path of a ghost is etched into the earth, hammered and chiseled by heeled boots, flat leather soles, and the barest of feet. I follow the prints up and over the rise. There is a man standing by the car, smartly dressed in black pants, an unblemished white shirt,