Leaves of Rustin (chapter 1. The Meeting)

Chapter 1

The Meeting

I sit here, in the field, far away from anyone as possible, a stick I carved over last summer that resembles a staff, lyes next to me in the grass. Sunlight dances on my face as clouds move to and from infront of it. It's spring now, new smells are everywhere. Birds talk wildly throughout the trees, greeting each other back again from the long months in many places when they didn't see each other. Squirles and deer and many other animals go about what their doing, hardly noticing me at all. I sit here quietly, writing a poem, usually what I do out here. It helps to get away from everyone. No one to have to listen to, no noise thats disturbing, just nature all around me. For as long as I can remember, I had always came here to get away from everything. It seemed like the perfect place, still is.

I listen to the trees, the stream behind me rolling over the peebles, the birds chatting, everything. I listen to it all. Everything seems the same as the year before, and yet, almost more different than the same. Something's missing, I say to myself. I cant remember what it is though.

The wind stirs a little, the tall grass around me seems as if it's surrounding me, not wanting to let me go. I lay my head up against the tree, looking up. Then I see it, the missing thing, Pegasus. He lands a few feet away, then looks at me, almost seeming as if he's smiling back at me as I smile at him.

He walks over to me, laying his head on my shoulder, as if saying, Hello Willow. I stroke his nose, still smiling, "Hello good friend, I see you return again this year just as last." He stares at me, eyes as purple as the little lilacs around me in the field, then he turns to go into the woods at the edge of the field. He stops and looks at me again, sunlight radiantly making his mane look almost a golden yellow. Yes, I've returned, as I will continue to do, I have no other place to go. He nods saying goodbye, and stolls off in an almost little prance.

I lay my hands under my head against the tree, watching him walk off towards the woods, thinking about all the times I had ridden on his back in the night, flying high above the clouds and looking down on the small world below me. I could see everything from up there, my house far from the field, Ermoman's cottage deep in the great green woods. Maybe I'll go there today, I havent been since the last snow, I say to myself. Ermoman has many books. Three rooms with books piled on shelves filled to the cieling of each room, and still yet there are books all over the floors and the tables.. although you can't tell that they're there. I loved going to his cottage. The smell of the old books lasted on my clothes throughout the rest of the day, tingling my nose everytime I got a hint of it through the wind.

Getting to his cottage would take at least a small pass in the position of the sun. I just might stay there tonight, who's going to worry, no one seems to anyways.

Reaching for my staff and standing up, I start walking towards the woods. Little butterflies follow me a little ways then turn back to ruturn to their flowers.