I could feel a warm presence behind me. He put his hands under my arms and lifted me up, high, high, higher… and there I was, on the lines. I didn’t have a bike but I didn’t care, I started to run on the cables, above the road, above the fields, above the houses… the sky was a soft, purple embrace. I felt the wind on my face, my chest, in my hair… I opened my arms wide, and ran, ran, ran. Then I slowed down, and wanted that bike, after all. And a translucent man with long arms and soft hands brought me one and put it right in front of me. But I was worried that I would fall, I realized I didn’t know how to ride a bike. So he hugged me gently from behind to hold me straight, and off we went… …
Tag: whirling bee
The Folktale – The Whirling Bee’s Blog
I realized that what surrounded us was not snow but seeds from a cottonwood tree. There was hardly any wind, we were enveloped in small, luminous feathers, playing in the colours of the setting sun. The world was in slow motion, as if we were all floating. I looked around, observing all the details, the lights, the colours, and I noticed that there was a river close by, and a boat on the bank. There was an old couple sitting by the boat. …
Cottonwood – The Whirling Bee’s Blog
I realized that what surrounded us was not snow but seeds from a cottonwood tree. There was hardly any wind, we were enveloped in small, luminous feathers, playing in the colours of the setting sun. The world was in slow motion, as if we were all floating. I looked around, observing all the details, the lights, the colours, and I noticed that there was a river close by, and a boat on the bank. There was an old couple sitting by the boat. …
The Canoe – The Whirling Bee’s Blog
I was lying on my back, staring at the sky above me. I saw some spots of light shooting by, they looked like fireflies, except the bee who was flying very close to me. Then I realized they were not fireflies but stars, and that even though it felt like we were hardly moving at all, we were in fact gliding so fast the stars seemed to leave a trail on our breaths… …
The Field, Again – The Whirling Bee’s Blog
I was on a wheat field, lying on the ground. It was sunset or dusk, and there were some people moving around, as if covered in colourful vapour. One of them, an old woman, came to me and sat behind me, by my head. I could not move. I was waiting for the bee to come, but she wouldn’t, and I was disappointed. The old woman put her hands on my head. “you are too willful” – she said gently, “let it go”. …