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