His eyes have looked at me through my quick passed Autumn.
Now our days are shorter, nights are longer and the skies are covered with the cloudy cloak of winter.
I remember seven years ago, when I first laid eyes on a certain amber joyful trickster, he seemed to have stepped out a fairy tale book and rooted himself into my nook, with mischievous grin he won my heart and changed the flavor of my life.
Looking upon this furry soul while resting his head right on my lab as I weave these lines for you, he's sinking deep in dreams of bird chasing, trail sniffing, bones chewing and many wanders to come. I can't discribe in words how deeply his presence have affected me and I'm joyfully grinning and thankful for much love and happiness he brought into my every day.
In keeping my promise to my amber companion I share with you my work of late inspired by his autumn garland covered coat.
Through dried leaves wounding his way back home after his morning wanders, with muddy paws and coat covered with wonders
leafs & twigs, birds & bugs, snails & mushrooms, flowers & feathers
and many delights of autumn tales tangled into his wild amber hair..
If you take a closer look you'll see.. a bird standing on a branch of a tree.
to that bird there is a tale, it starts with once upon a messing tail...
I met that lonley gray feathered minstrel of spring, his flock departed beyond the sea like all megrants birds do, but he couldn't follow without his lost long wing tail.. in gray to grayish plumage he stood out amongst the green of the park behind my house.. singing, announcing his presence proclaming his territory.... every morning I was joyed to hear his distinctive melody of day break that carried in the freshnies breeze of our morning wanders as he followed us from tree to tree..
until next spring when he had found a partner, despite her long wing tale she decided to stay, to share a nest to share with him a branch of a tree..
four eggs she laid, and the tree where one lonesome shrike stood, was soon covered with 6 healthy singing shrikes, celebrating their new wings among the rustling golden leafs of autumn.
Until one morning I didn't hear their songs of my past year, I searched every park and I looked at every tree, the wild gray feather songsters left without a trace.. and all they left behind is a one signle feather covered with dew.. and a warm memory of a song that still echos within my heart too.