one_was_a_spider_one_was_a_bird gabbie and as he walked, she flew. 130212 ... raze "i wish i could fly like you," he said, looking up at her wistfully. "oh no," she said. "i like you just the way you are. you can slip into spaces much too small for me. and you crawl and climb in such wonderful ways." "that's kind of you to say." then he got an idea. "if you bring me back something from up there, i'll find something good to give you from down here," he said, rubbing two of his legs together. "it's a deal," she said. he watched her glide above him in semi-circles and thought, "that's beautiful. she's doing that just for me. i'll have to find her something special while i'm foraging around today. maybe a delicious cookie crumb." he went off in search of a gift for his friend, while she traced invisible lines in the sky. 130212 ... gabbie 'this will be great fun' she thought, but she did not utter a sound. 'i must think about my next move.' and with a definitive air of dance in her flight, she was gone. 130212 ... raze he went about his search. he came across small pieces of earth, crumbs of food, and tiny stones. nothing seemed quite right. just as he was ready to give up, he saw a beautiful white feather on the ground in front of him. "this is perfect," he said to himself. "she can use this for her nest." he tried to pick it up, but his legs would not grasp it. he tried to hold it in his mouth, but he lacked the strength to carry it. a female worker ant walked by while the spider was wrestling with the feather. "would you like some help?" she asked. "oh yes," said the spider. "that would be wonderful. this is a gift for my friend the bird, but i can't seem to find a way to carry it to her." the spider wondered why the ant would want to help him. he trapped ants in his web and ate them, after all. surely she knew that. "friendship is the most important thing of all," the ant said. and then, as if she had read the spider's mind, she added: "i will help, as long as you promise not to trap me in your sticky web." "of course," said the spider. "i would not eat a friend." "allow me then," the ant said. she closed her powerful jaws on the stem of the feather and began to carry it like a flag. "lead the parade," the spider said, amusing himself with his own wit. as they walked, they passed a grasshopper. "may i hop along with you?" he asked. "yes," said the spider. "join us. i am bringing a gift to my friend." "mmfff mmmm mmmmfff," agreed the ant. "pardon?" said the grasshopper. "she said, 'by all means,'" the spider explained. 130213 ... gabbie she soared through the air, relishing the sensation of the crisp, cool evening breeze deflecting above and below her feathered appendages. " i wish i could bottle this feeliing…" she thought to herself, letting a small sigh escape. "that would be the greatest gift of all." it was only when she stopped to rest, perching atop her favorite weathervane on the roof of farmer dane's weather beaten red barn that the idea struck her. 130215 ... raze a breeze began to pick up. at first it was little more than a whisper kissing only the tallest blades of grass. it grew stronger, until it became an ominous moan, heard as much as it was felt. "it sounds like singing," the grasshopper said. the spider gave a solemn nod. the wind took hold of the feather, and with it the ant, pushing her backward and side to side. each time she was blown off course, she steadied herself and continued marching forward. "i won't let go," she told herself. "i will not fall." the grasshopper and the spider followed close behind, shouting encouragement. he couldn't be certain, but the spider thought he saw a smile pass across the ant's face. the wind would not have its way. not today. understanding this gave him cause to laugh to himself, in the quiet, satisfied way spiders will sometimes do when they feel they are a part of something meaningful. 130215 ... gabbie perched high above it all, she sat still as a statue for quite a long time and just took in the view. it was feeding time at the barn, and the horses were anxiously stomping the floorboards in a chaotic yet hypnotic cacophony with their snorts and brays. she could hear the croaks of the frogs in the direction of the lake, serenading the gold and pink sunset with their unusual and not-so-musical style. 'funny that they kind of do my job at dusk,' she giggled to herself. soon she was lost in a cascade of thought considering the events of the day, and she began to make plans for her friend's special gift. this was something she had never done; something she had never even remotely considered before this most awesome of days. when she flew to the weather vane earlier, she had experienced a quick jolt of worry, suddenly realizing that there was nothing tangible in the sky that she might give to her friend. but then the idea came, replacing concern with excitement and anticipation. 'i will give my new friend the greatest gift of all...' she shouted to no one in particular. 'i will let him fly.' 130304 ... gabbie as fast as her excitement had come, it was suddenly and abruptly replaced with an oddly frightening sadness. this was not a strange occurance with her as she was a worrier by nature, yet those who knew her and loved her accepted her for who and what she was. her friends called her a 'nervous nellie,' in a joking reference to her seriousness. she fluttered her wings in a shudder as she wondered how, in the colorful painting that was the broad expanse below, that she would ever find her friend, the spider. 130308 ... raze it's hard to move against a thing as strong as the wind when it wants to be wicked. and this wind had grown up to be more wicked than most. they were a long time marching without getting far. "running in place," the ant remembered hearing someone say once when she was gathering crumbs. now she knew what it meant. after what felt like a hundred days with no night, the sky darkened and the stars made themselves known. "time to rest," said the grasshopper. "we'll do better tomorrow." they took shelter in a hollowed-out tree trunk. inside was an owl who looked older than time. "you're here because of what you're up against," said the owl, his voice a hoarse whisper, his eyes a weak amber glow, two small stones become lanterns. it wasn't a question. "yes," said the spider. "and you?" "i came here to die. but before i do, let me tell you where_all_the_good_wind_went." they crept in close, as close as you'd dare get to a creature that would be glad to make you its last meal if it had the strength, and listened to the owl tell his tale. 150103 ... raze "wind is many things, and wind is made by many things. i make it when i fly. i use the greater wind around me to aid my flight, to rest, to glide. people — those massive, lumbering, clueless creatures — make it when they move and when they breathe. even you, little ant, make wind when you work. maybe no one else can feel the wind you make, but that doesn't mean it isn't there. there is good wind and bad. the good wind will help you to get where you want to go, should you choose to use it. the bad wind will keep you from getting there, and there's no choice involved. they say there was a time when almost all wind was good, but fear turned it, altered it, made it something less kind. it's in our nature to fear what we don't understand. so imagine what the world must feel. the world is all heart and no brain. there are a great many things the heart struggles to make sense of. if you feel but cannot find a moment of understanding in all that feeling, you are lost in a night no dawn can break." a cough tore through the owl's throat. when he spoke again his voice was weaker than before. "why are you fighting against the bad wind? what's so important that it can't wait?" "a gift for my friend the bird," the spider said. "i need to find her, so i can give her this feather — the one the ant is carrying. for her nest." with his beak the owl drew a feather from his own breast and let it fall. it looked like a caterpillar from another world, brown and beige, soft and thin as an unsure kiss. of the spider, the ant, and the grasshopper, none had ever seen a more beautiful thing. "give her this too," the owl said. "a friend to keep your white feather company. friendship is a special thing." ("the most important thing of all," the ant thought but did not say.) then the owl sighed and closed his eyes, and they knew he would not open them again. he'd made the last of his good wind. 150216 what's it to you? who go blather from