It's 4:30am. (normal for me)
It's LUSH and it's beautiful.
As I wrote it a storyboard unfolded in my mind, so I'll share it...
It's the story of a young bird, warm under his mothers wing on a rocky shore by the ocean on a normal, calm, sunny day. cont'd below
Time markers are in bold for reference.
Music player requires Adobe FlashPlayer 9 or later, or just click the song link to listen.
SONG LINK: Dreams of Flying.mp3
(0:00) Watching the older birds fly above him, he is daydreaming what it must be like to be up there, flying free, longing for that time to be his. (hear the waves?) He's not ready yet, but so wants to be.
(1:23) He closes his eyes and imagines himself up there, floating on the breeze above the waves.
(2:05) He's now totally immersed in his fantasy, losing himself in the daydream and forgets the world around him as he flies high up into the blue sky.
(2:47) He opens his eyes to the disappointment of being too young, still bound to the earth. Just another daydream. The smile drifts away with a gentle wisp of ocean air and the daydream is gone.
(3:08) Then his mother nudges him. He looks up at her to see her gesture him to the sky. He questions her sincerity. She nods with a smile. "It's time".
(3:28) He stands up bravely and steps to the edge of the nest, though slowly, tentatively. He's excited but has doubts.
(3:49) He opens his wings, stretches them wide and flaps a few times as he was taught. He squints at the sun, then turns to look at his mother over his shoulder with a smile of "thank you", wings still outstretched.
(4:09) Suddenly and without warning a breeze scoops him right up off his feet and he learns in an instant that he's a natural, effortless flyer. Born not to dream, but to fly. In moments he's high above the rocky shore.
(4:31) The magic of it all overwhelms his senses. The birds he used to look up at with envy are now flying far beneath him and he's overcome with a sense of joy, freedom and awe as he flies higher and higher toward the sun.
(5:01) He returns to earth, overjoyed, tears in his eyes, to a proud and waiting mother.
Comments are welcome, good or bad. =)
Thanks!
Yes, I know, kinda "Jonathan Livingston Seagull", but it wasn't in my head while I wrote it. The sounds and melody line inspired my story, not the book. =)
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