Have you noticed anything different about Dad’s eyes lately? Pass me the milk.

Uh, no. What are you talking about?

It’s like he’s here but he is far away, but at the same time he is more here than he has ever been. And have you heard him laughing lately?

Yeah, he’s been laughing a lot. Where is he? I want to see his eyes. Did you finish the juice?

Last I saw he was in the garden.

—-

You see him?

Yeah, I never noticed before. But yeah, his eyes are like super alive and almost, like, glowing. Also, did he have a bird on his head when you saw him?

No. What!?

Yeah, he had a blue jay chilling on his head. He was doing archery. The bird flew away each time he shot an arrow, then it just flapped back down and stood there, on his head looking around. Then it stayed on his head as he went to collect his arrows.

Crazy, I gotta see that.

He told me a story, kinda like a poem. He said it was prose.

Yeah, prose? What about?

Something about talking birds down by the river. How they love each other. He was crying, but smiling. He gave me a big hug, and that blue jay hopped off his head and landed on mine.

Woah!

Yeah, it felt a little scratchy and scary, but also really nice.

I wanna go see!

Looking for a spot to be alone he wandered north

Rocks became a dried crust of mud where trees and grasses accustomed to inundation and summer drought made their home

Bound by the shore of the river he focused downward, not outward

Determining a spot to be, just for a while

He had left work behind, no one knew he was gone. No one would miss him

This will do

A westerly wind blew through the river gorge to the plains in the east shaking the wildflowers in a jubilant dance

He settled into a spot, the flowers becoming a quivering layer of purple and gold at eye level stretching a hundred feet

On his seat he overheard a plover’s cheep

Her dear man replied in kind upon the sand

And the human man faded from this place

On fleeting feet she checked the sand

And peered around the land for danger

And “cheep” called to her man

And with flowers jiggling and plovers peeping the human man un-faded back to this place for a bit and considered the wind blowing and the sun shining

He watched the plovers and wondered why they always filled him with such a strange sadness

Like a sweet red juice leaking from a fruit on a tree. One that had suffered an unexpected cut and had not yet scarred. One no one would eat

A single note, no song, but a call, filled with worrying love. A desperate call saying over and again “I don’t know what I would do without you.” She cheeped to her man

And he called back “I am here my dear, and yes, I don’t know what ever I would do without you”

And they each peered around for danger

The human man watched their feet as they scurry and stop and watched their round eyes as they check for danger. And their cheeps squeezed the juice in his heart as the flowers shook and danced faster than one could ever perceive

He felt the space. The space he had chosen as his seat

He felt the sun and he felt the warm air

And though it blew around him he felt it wrap him and squeeze him tight

He felt what the air was made of exploring the surface of his skin and explore beneath it and explore the sadness in his heart

The delicious sadness that he never wanted to let go of

He wanted it to burst from within and run slowly to the sand, but he never wanted to let it go

He felt the heat of the sun and what it was made of

Exploring the side of his body from the south. Touching the stuff he was made of and making its way in and through as he faded again

He’d taken the path of purple and gold, a blur of jubilance at eye level. And on into a cheep

One which could be considered brief but could be ridden to the source for as long as one could stand from the plover to her man

She called “I don’t know what ever I would do without you”

He called back “Yes, my dear, I am here. And I don’t know what ever I would do without you”