Perspectives

That spring

Nolan & the singing birds picture from rising-moons

"It's almost finished" Nolan's father repeated for the millionth time in the last hour or so.

He stood beside him and gazed up in the tree where the birds rested their feathers and sung beautifully. He thought they were singing for him, because it was his birthday.

"can you hear 'em Nolan? can you?" his father had asked before they reached the tree. "they're singing for you" he added and ruffled his dark hair.

Nolans father had promised him a swing for his birthday and a swing he got.

"there" he stated and backed away a few steps to take in his work.

"can i swing in it?" Nolan asked excitingly.

"'course you can, that's what it's for" He picked up his son and placed him on the tire that hung by a rope from the tree on the hill.

It was Nolan's favorite place, because it was perfectly placed for watching the sunset. Nothing was in the way and the field of grass ignited a feeling of freedom in his heart. The wind was never too strong here, just enough to make his hair fly with and fill his lungs with the smell of fresh spring flowers.

And now he could swing all day long and watch the sun set and rise and fly with the wind with the birds singing in his ears.

"just don't fall off"

Nolan ignored the command and swung as high as he could, hoping to reach the birds and join them on the high branches and sing all day long on the worlds greatest spot with the wind blowing around him and the grass dancing.

That spring

That spring felt eternal.