A Dreamscape

A short story for your amusement

The Eagle and the Hummingbird is a creative writing experiment I’m trying out and posting here as my first foray into publishing something I’ve written for the entertainment of others. I hope you will enjoy it.

The Eagle and the Hummingbird

A Dream Fantasy

You are sleeping now. Not quite to dreamland but traveling there. Let me dream a dream for you. You are flying in an airplane, and you have many hours to go before arriving at your destination. You are in dream time, where space and distance have a different meaning.

As you fade into a drowsy state, you are almost instantly in the destination airport terminal. You are excited and nervous because you are meeting someone for the very first time. Many months prior you and your friend met on-line at a music site, where you shared music and gradually became virtual friends, discovering that besides sharing appreciation for similar varieties of music and musicians, you also had in common many other areas of interest. You talked often of how much fun it would be to meet in person.

The low drone of the aircraft engines lulls you deeper into relaxation and seamlessly into the dream and now you are exiting the plane, surprised to find yourself viewing an endless plain of rolling hills, covered in the most emerald green, soft looking grass you've ever seen. The expansive blue sky is populated with large bundles of white clouds, and the gentle rise of the green slopes are laced and studded with rocky limestone outcrops heaved eons ago from beneath the earth's surface. Dark-veined cut-banks and the sparkling silver streams, wriggling and twisting over the landscape, appear nothing like you've imagined the grasslands and prairies of Kansas would be.

Scattered in the distance you see hundreds of Angus cows and heifers grazing on protein-rich grass. Red-tailed hawks, of the carnivorous family raptor, glide high in the cloud-clotted sky and the sun blazes a golden sheen over the hills, creating a lovely vista of shadows and light accentuating the bluffs and valleys, which appear magical in the afternoon sun. You are mesmerized by the sight, and mystified. Where is the bustle of the busy airport terminal, the people hurrying hither and yon, and where is your friend, who promised to meet you at your arrival gate?

The air is clean and smells of sun-warmed earth. The only sounds you can hear are the songs of the meadowlark and red-winged black bird, and the sighing of the prairie winds sweeping across the tall grass plains. You realize there is no other human being in sight. You are lost in this remote wilderness, pondering how you came to be here and what happened to the place you had been only a short time before.

Not far from where you stand you notice a large cottonwood tree with majestic widespread limbs covered in shiny green leaves clattering softly in the breeze, forming a shady canopy. Close to it, the bend of a thin ribbon steam, rippling and burbling over its pebble strewn bottom, unfurls on its way into the distance. You wander over to the shade of the tree and sit upon a wide flat boulder to ponder your situation. You've no idea where you are, but your friend spoke often of the Flint Hills, and recalled her passionate descriptions of her favorite place in her home state. If this is where you are, how is it that only moments before you were on the tarmac of the airport? Nothing makes sense! Bewildered and tired, you decide to lay back and enjoy the warm breeze and solitude. A pleasant drowsiness overtakes you and your whole body relaxes, your eyes close, shielding against the brilliant shining sun.

The stream murmurs a lullaby. The air is warm and dry. The drone of bees and the click-dic-dic of a yellow breasted Dickcissel punctuates the silence. A voice is calling you, but it's too far away to hear clearly. A little smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, and you hear yourself whisper, "Hold on....I'm almost there". You find yourself walking through patches of purple verbena and yellow Missouri evening primrose, alive with feeding butterflies. Ahead, you see a small herd of bison, those magnificent animals that no longer populate the American prairies by the millions as they did a hundred years ago.

Suddenly, you are startled by a shrill piercing scream high overhead that shatters your peaceful reverie. You look up to see a red-tailed hawk swooping across the immense blue vista in pursuit of something. You watch with curiosity and delight at the magnificent raptor speeding after what you suppose must be its prey, but you still cannot see the creature fleeing in mortal fear of its life.

A dread begins to overtake your heart and fear embeds itself. Something is wrong, terribly wrong, but what is it? Your heart is pounding so hard you are breathless. Your gaze is riveted on the sky. The soaring bird of prey, its five-foot wingspan uplifted slightly above its body, is intent upon the chase. The fierce predator is swooping lower and lower, and finally, though still only a blur, the tiny creature it follows, speeding in the race of its life, becomes visible. Your heart lurches in sudden recognition. A tiny ruby-throated hummingbird, wings nothing but a blur whirring at break-neck speed, is darting, zigzagging right and left in a desperate attempt to avoid the ferocious and deadly beak of the great pursuing hawk.

A vision of your friend crosses your thoughts, and you understand the fear you feel and from whence it comes...your affectionate name for her is Hummingbird. While you watch the chase and suffer for the little creature so valiantly attempting to escape its fate, you sense a change coming over you. Your eyes become sharper, five times greater than your normal vision, and you can see clearly the life and death event taking place above you. Your arms spread to an amazing width of seven feet, covered in strong lightweight interlocking feathers. In a flash you are flying at thirty mph, seeking an altitude of ten thousand feet, high above the chase. Your keen eyes are on the red-tailed hawk and its tiny prey. Your mission is to save the little creature from certain death.

Soaring at top speed you begin your dive, accelerating to one hundred miles per hour, plummeting in complete control toward the predator that has now become your prey. Within seconds your talons clutch the body of the hawk. In shock and surprise the hawk screams in fear and rage. Your eyes are on the hummingbird, safe now beyond the reach of the hawk. Reversing direction, you soar away with your prey. You release the predator which you have mercifully allowed to live. Immediately upon dropping it, you dive to meet it eye to eye, and growl, "Never again prey upon a hummingbird, raptor, or I will personally see to it that you die."

Banking sharply, you glide and kite in the direction of the hummingbird's flight, soon catching up to the tiny blur of whirring wings. She is exhausted from her harrowing escape and barely able to stay afloat. You slowly approach her in a gentle glide and fall beneath her, rising slowly so that she is now resting upon your back. Softly, you say to her, "Little hummingbird, rest your wings, slow your heart and be assured you are under safe passage."

She settles her shivering and weightless little body into the depths of your feathers and rides calmly, knowing she is secure under your protection, grateful for her salvation.

The eagle and the hummingbird travel the blue-sky highway, soaring among wispy clouds and rays of sunshine until the sun begins its decline into the western horizon. The Flint Hills are awash in the tangerine glow of the setting sun and shadows fall deeply among the rock abutments and cut banks. The streams and ponds are like mirrors reflecting the apricot, bronze and azure streaks of the early evening sky. The eagle's spirit is as high as the altitude and the hummingbird is as warm as if in the safe harbor of a nest. As night falls, they find themselves in the welcoming branches of the old cottonwood beside the stream. The eagle perches at rest in the shelter of the tree and the hummingbird nestles beneath his folded wing, murmuring a quiet prayer of thanks and praise to the creator of her savior.

Slowly, consciousness returns you from the sweet ending of the dream that transported you to a place of danger and drama, and back to reality. The airport is quiet in the early morning hours. Many of the airline counters are empty and a few sleepy-eyed travelers, like yourself, wait for their luggage to be off-loaded onto the carousel.

You glance about, thankful there isn't a throng of people to obscure your ability to see if she is there, waiting for you. You've only seen her in photos. Will she look the same, you wonder. You've dressed as she requested, in black: black shirt open at the throat over a black t-shirt, tucked into your black jeans. You take off your dark lensed sunglasses, hoping she will have no trouble recognizing you.

Suddenly, a blur of movement from the double glass doors opening from the outside catches your eye and you turn in that direction. At first you see only a bright ruby scarf flowing from the neck of a shimmering lime green top over a turquoise skirt, the colors so brilliantly hued they seem to have brought the sunshine in with her. She is moving quickly, almost running, her dark hair flying behind her. Her little feet carry her toward you in a rush, and you realize with relief that your Hummingbird has arrived.

A smile, reflecting the joy in her heart, radiates from her small oval face as she runs into your open arms. You embrace in a tight hug, laughing from the excitement of your first meeting. Catching your breath, you pull back from her and it is then that she notices how pale you are, appearing as though you have been through a frightening experience.

She asks, "Was your flight all right? Did something happen?" You assure her that the flight was good, and joke that her question cannot be answered until you've determined if your luggage has also arrived.

She says, "Let’s find out! I am so happy you've arrived, and that I got here safely to meet you. I had such a terrifying experience on my way here. I’ll tell you all about it while we wait for your luggage."

‘What happened to you?’ you ask. She laughs, ‘A near miss with a deer on the highway!’ Then, with a grin, ‘Your turn—what’s with that pale face?’

You smile, as the two of you walk with arms linked. You delight in the prospect of telling her of your dream. Already, the friendship nurtured only through words and photos, promises to be so much more.