It was modestly outlined with black but boasted tangerine and saffron. Between flopping in consecutive bursts were pauses of silence, sunbathing and charm. The season was autumn so the leaves were tumbling to its leash but not like it would in winter, where they would be propelled to the crimson tendrils that followed its ambivalent dance. To whom was it courting? Was it the harvest moon lying awake until the early day, giving guidance to the lost, or the sun, bearing the talent to flatter annuals into early bloom?
“Is it I that you endear? If it is so, I will cast a light and serve you. I will be your compass while you wander at night” says the moon.
“Is it I?” asks the sun. “For I can bestow a far greater light. I can show you the Amaryllis and the Lilium.”
Their inquiries were considered yet an answer was postponed, for the time was not ready. It was decided that whatever choice be made should be of purpose and not of frivolity. After this contemplation, it began a slow descent to the boy at the other end of the leash in hopes of acquiring advice. On its way it discovers a wallowing ostrich. The ostrich flapped haphazardly, imparting feathers to many parts of the meadow until finally it added a new dance in which the neck bobbed in four-four time. Unfamiliar to the dance of the ostrich, it attempted to mimic the peculiar movement, flopping and swooping from one direction to the next. Suddenly, the ostrich dislodges a strawberry from its throat and shoots it through the distance like a finch in flight. The ostrich giggles in delight and adjusts its poise, shortly before taking off and leaving a trail of dust that was destined north.
