Dragonfly Web: Whitestuff

One | What Lives in Trees?

Ciara's mother always managed to sound calm, no matter what she was saying. "Leave your brother alone, Ceecee."

"Where's he going?"

"He saw that white crow. He wants to make it a class project for Friday."

"No! He needs to leave it alone. Birds need to fly free!"

"And you need to get going to school—so be quick."

"I don't want him to catch it!"

"Take this for your lunch and get off to the bus—pleeeze—" Bets Runyon tilted her head sideways with a voice that flashed, 'warning'.

"But what if he's late?"

"He'll be fine. Your new jacket is clean. And no sad faces! Go!"

But of course, outside, Ciara wasted no time in finding her brother. She spied him hunting among the trees of the driveway across from the orchard. It was still just beginning to flower. She knew exactly where her brother would look.

"Oh, Arvy, please don't catch the crow!"

"It's not going last long—not being different anyway, Ceecee. They'll just peck at him."

"But he just wants to live. It isn't right to keep him locked up."

"He's probably weak and been chased off. That's why he's out here."

"I could try to feed it."

"How could you do that?"

"I'll figure it out. Please, don't do it!"

"Aw, Ra-rah."

"Stop making fun!"

"Okay, okay. I won't do it—right now. We're probably late."

≈≈≈

Ciara dawdled back home along the path after classes. She was busy thinking of all that had happened in school, so busy that she'd almost forgotten the crow. Suddenly, she noticed a fluttering high up in the elm tree. She couldn't tell what it was, only that it was white and moving. She ran to the farmhouse to put her pack down.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Ciara's father called out from the kitchen. He stood at the sink washing his hands, which were dirty from fixing the shed.

"I'll be right back. Gotta check something."

"Ceecee. You start your homework first."

"I'll be right back."

"Ceece—?"

She knew her father wouldn't worry about her. He'd get distracted finding a snack, and after eating it, he would go right back to his day.

By the time Ciara raced along their driveway that wound through the woods, the white fluttering creature had moved to the maple, close to the fence and the pigpen near to the marsh. This was her favourite climbing tree. It hung far out over the river with one long outstretching branch, ideal for jumping into the water.

She could still make out the white against the leaves, as they waved on a breeze. "I'll bet it has a nest." It was impossible to get a good look at the crow or even to tell how big it might be. "Perhaps it's a baby who's lost?"

Her jacket was unwelcome weight. She took it off at the bottom and threw it to the big rock where a large root had grown out—encircled around it—like an arm that had wanted to hug a good friend from only a seed. This was the spot that the tree and the rock had shared all of life's seasons, since long before Ciara was born. The spot felt like time holding still, but yet wild and alive.