Projects

The Enchanting Realm

In the enchanting realm of ballet, the fourth position has a special place. It is a graceful and delicate stance, where the dancer’s feet form a perfect “X” shape, with one foot in front of the other. Every aspiring ballerina aspired to master this position, for it required poise, strength, and impeccable balance. Among the dancers was a young girl whose dream was to execute the fourth position flawlessly on stage, captivating the audience with her elegance and artistry. One summer evening, as she practiced her ballet routine in the garden, a great blue heron gracefully descended from the sky and landed nearby. Its long, slender legs mirrored the lines of a ballet dancer, and its wings expanded with a regal air. Intrigued by this majestic creature, she found inspiration in its presence. She observed how the heron held its body gracefully, maintaining perfect alignment and balance. With renewed determination, She channeled the heron’s poise into her movements. As she gracefully assumed the fourth position, her body flowed like a bird in flight, mesmerizing all who watched. The great blue heron had become her silent dance partner, guiding her to embody the essence of the fourth position and fulfill her dream on the ballet stage.

Selected – 2022 APA San Fransisco Something Personal Awards.

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Clinch Mountain

The northern cardinal soared through the sky. It had flown for miles, its wings growing weary each day. But it held on to one fading hope; it yearned to return to Clinch Mountain and hear the sweet melodies of the Carter family once more.

Long ago, the cardinal had nested in the lush forests that adorned the majestic Clinch Mountain. Underneath the weeping willow tree, it had reveled in the enchanting music that filled the air. They gathered there, their harmonies blending with the rustling leaves, creating a symphony of joy and solace. But life’s twists and turns had forced the cardinal to leave its cherished mountain behind.

With a heavy heart, the cardinal realized the cherished memories it held so dear would forever remain in the past. The music that had woven its way into the cardinal’s very essence had been silenced. A mournful song escaped the cardinal’s beak, a lament for the loss of the melodies that had given it solace and purpose.
A gentle breeze rustled the fallen leaves as the cardinal’s song echoed through the lonely mountain. At that moment, a realization washed over the cardinal—it may never hear that music again, but it could still carry its spirit within its weary wings.

With newfound resolve, the cardinal decided to become a living testament to the melodies that once graced Clinch Mountain. It would sing its mournful song to all who would listen, a reminder of the beauty that had once thrived there. Its tired and worn wings would continue to carry the essence of the Carter family’s music, spreading their legacy to far-flung places.

And so, the weathered and tired northern cardinal continued its flight, a lone messenger of a fading past. It sang its sorrowful song to the wind, hoping the echoes of the Carter family’s melodies would find new hearts and ignite a spark of inspiration. Though it would never again experience the music under the weeping willow tree, the cardinal’s purpose now lay in keeping the memory alive, even in a world that had forgotten the beauty that once existed on Clinch Mountain.

~ Robert David Atkinson

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The Egret

In the heart of the sprawling wetlands, the great Egret found her truest love. With every graceful sweep of her wings, she celebrated the symphony of life that thrived amidst the waters and reeds. Dawn and dusk were her cherished moments when the sun painted the sky in hues of gold and lavender, casting a magical glow upon the marsh. Then, she would take flight, her elegant form reflecting in the tranquil waters as she soared above her watery kingdom. The wetlands were her refuge, her muse, and the keeper of her fondest memories. Whether dancing amidst the reflections or wading in search of sustenance, its presence was a song to the wetlands, an ode to the beauty of life that flowed beneath her wings.

~ Robert David Atkinson

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The Starlings Flight West

As the sun set, casting a veil of darkness over the land, a lone starling took flight from the gnarled branches of an oak tree. Its wings, a midnight blue and obsidian tapestry, glistened with an eerie iridescence. The wind whispered secrets to the starling, urging it to embark westward.

The starling soared through the expanse, its feathers a beacon in the storm. Lightning illuminated the turbulent clouds with fleeting glimpses of forgotten constellations. Thunder rumbled, and rain fell in silvery sheets. Yet, the starling remained undaunted, guided by a purpose known only to the stars.

Whispers among the locals spoke of the starling, a symbol of hope, they said, in the darkest of times. Whenever the starling took flight through a storm, it transformed the land to the west. Barren fields bloomed, dreams became inspiring visions, and the earth danced joyfully.

As the starling pierced the heart of the tempest, its wings blazed, and the land below blossomed with newfound life. Westward, the darkness gave way to vibrant colors, and the starling’s shadow dissolved into a world filled with wonder as if the storm had cleansed the land and left behind a promise of endless possibilities.

~ Robert David Atkinson

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The Gathering

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the coastal marshes, a gathering of egrets unfolded. It was a post-high tide ritual passed down through generations. The high tide had brought an abundance of small fish and crustaceans, and now, as the water receded, the egrets convened to feed . But a sense of urgency filled the air. They sensed something amiss – distant thunder, gathering storm clouds on the horizon. A winter storm approached, and they needed to prepare. With practiced precision, they flew to their communal roosting site in a grove of tall cypress trees. The darkening sky reminded them of nature’s unpredictability. Perched high in the trees, the egrets huddled together, necks tucked beneath wings for warmth and protection. The storm arrived with fury, whipping the marshes with gusty winds and icy rain. But the egrets, with their collective wisdom and unity, weathered the tempest. When morning broke, and the storm had passed, they emerged, white plumage glistening in the newfound sunlight. They had faced the storm together, their bond strengthened by nature’s challenges, knowing that gathering after each high tide would always provide strength in unity. In the days that followed, the egrets continued their gatherings, finding solace in each other’s presence. And as the seasons changed, they watched over the marshes. Their gatherings symbolized resilience in the face of life’s storms.

~ Robert David Atkinson

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The Silence of Solitude

Where there is no sense of time and light is always hidden, the last great blue heron stood tall and regal in the dark swamp. Its azure feathers, once a brilliant display against the obsidian backdrop, now seemed to absorb what little light reached the depths of the murky waters. The swamp echoed with the silence of solitude, broken only by the occasional mournful call of the heron, a lonely melody that resonated through the shadows.

~ Robert David Atkinson

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