FEATHERS and the GOLDEN SPRUCE TREE
by
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Pain seemed etched into the heart and eyes of a bluebird named Feathers, as he tried to find his way to another food source in the forest at the end of the valley. The wind howled and cried its shrill voice across the loneliness of a cold winter evening. Darkness was making it hard to see, as Papa Feathers bit stealthy wings into the headwind that blew with such fierceness, that sometimes it seemed that Papa Feathers was flying backwards, instead of towards his destination. He hurt all over. He knew winter would come early this year and he feared there would not be much time left to gather seeds and bits of grass to nest away for the colder time.
Feathers could feel the sting of sleet against his wings. The bitterness drew warmth and strength from his heart. His breath came in gasps. The last rays of sunlight had long since taken their journey into sleep. The early rays of moonlight, under the clouds above him, glistened on his wings. Papa Feathers could see his arms, of groomed and tightly fitted layers of delicate feathers glitter from the crusty white ice that was forming on them, like a sheet of armor. He was growing heavier! Much more ice and he would not be able to hold his altitude and path to the dark forest ahead. Even though he was a strong bird and a responsible bird, he felt himself falling towards the slashing, waving trees below… trees that still held leaves that rebuked the coming of the winter storms. They were the gnarled, crooked trees that lined the riverbanks, leading to the safety of the tall spruce tree forest at the end of the valley. The river below twisted into the spruce forest ahead. Only along its banks, were the crooked old trees able to live. He looked for a branch that was not moving, in case he was forced to land, but they all seemed to dance to the beat and fierceness of the winter wind, daring him to descend and be consumed forever.
He was hungry. There were those beneath him in the forests that were hungry also! He felt himself loosing altitude, falling lower into the darkness below. He wondered what other carnivores lived in this part of the valley. Surely, there were hungry foxes and hawks and other vermin. Thoughts now occupied his mind, of dying alone. Not being responsible to his family terrified him! How would they survive without him, he wondered? Mama Feathers and the Baby Feathers were waiting for his return. He pondered to himself if he would see them tonight or not until tomorrow or maybe not ever again. The ash trees and the bamboo and the willows and maples, and the evergreens and the pines and the grass, all whipped in the wind from the north.
“Dare to come closer,” they whispered.
The definitions of the beginning of the main spruce forest slowly came into view, slightly masked by shadows from clouds spotlighted by the moonlight from low on the horizon and beyond the forest, ahead. He could already hear the squeaks and twisting from the bending of the spines of trees, and of the wood rubbing against itself, stretching and tearing away bark and leaves.
There it was, finally in view, the
But the Forbidden Forest had other reasons for being of interest to Feathers! The other bluebirds that Feathers knew had told him about the two Golden Spruce Trees that were embedded deep into the interior of the forest. His friends had noticed them when flying over the top of the forest, but since they were so different, they had not dared go near them. They glowed golden in the rising sun, and even at night, in the moonlight, they stood out from all the other trees in the forest that were just the usual blue-green spruce trees. Feathers knew that if this information from his friends was the legend that his father had told him about, that the tree’s seeds would be very tasty and different and that Mama Feathers would be very pleased with him. He liked that! Whenever Mama was pleased with him, she would hug closer to him
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About the Book
Feathers is a Bluebird with an appetite for seeds and for flying adventures. It was the cold winter wind full of sleet and ice that flung him unexpectedly to the other end of the valley and to the Forbidden Forest. He now faces the unknown and perhaps death. He is a dedicated “responsible” family bird full of morals and purpose. He may never see his family again. His family ethics and principals are weighed and tested in this story. The Golden Spruce Tree Seed has purpose also, as he tries to dig his roots into the ground to make him the tallest tree in the forest and to make his parents, who stand above him, proud. He is facing death head-on! The words of his parents, “you are not dead until you rot” seem an aimless and distant phrase. He knows he needs heat and sunlight to fulfill his dreams of touching the clouds and the top of the sky. How these two dissimilar personalities challenge each other in the midst of mean ol’ crooked trees, raging rivers, the slicing knives, and vermin who would like to see both of our characters on their dinner plate, gives parents who like to read to their young children, and young persons already maturing into life’s challenges, a vehicle by which the lessons of patience can be taught and exemplified with fun and good story. Teachers also may find this a neat story to use in the class room leisure reading. In a present time when the challenges of leaving nest and home and family to discover one’s own destiny are met with the fear of the unknown in life’s toy store that has such overwhelming careers in each isle, in packages not yet opened…the hope that the author is trying to impart is that; life taken one step at a time, until the mountain is taken and defeated, is the way of all heroes and heroines. The bumps in the road are only meant as impediments if the traveler falls. They keep that person from sliding unabated to the bottom of the mountain to have to start all over again. Doors we selfishly want to open and that slam shut on us, only open new doors of much more worthy challenges and pleasures. There is always hope in the next day’s sunrise if we lead our lives in a good way. This is a story that tries to teach that no one ever got to the top of the mountain in one giant leap! Nor was the true destiny and ever continuing story of Feathers and the Golden Spruce Tree to be learned for many hundreds of years later, after this story began.
About the Author
Curt Farley is a retired Captain from American Airlines and the United States Air Force. He resides in
His zest for life and his examination of human behavior, both young and old have given this author an inside “take” on the human soul. Engineering, mechanical, people, test pilot and air show skills, have influenced this writer’s ability to “say it…how it really is” in the life of mystery and suspense, fun, and prolific examination of how people interact when pressed to the wall. Most of his stories are in part, based on facts supported by multitudes of friends, some enemies, lover’s stories, war stories, and drug related experiences shared with him by agents in the field. Curt Farley exposes every bit of nakedness in writing possible, in order to bring the reader’s imagination to feel the happiness, the pain, the romance, the smell and the taste of the human animal. From the extremes of a little Spruce seed’s personality in a children’s story called FEATHERS and the GOLDEN SPRUCE TREE, to the (yet to be published) dark side of the justice system and a woman possessed by the devil in a book called THROUGH THE WINDOW PAIN (that is the correct intended spelling), to the valleys of Vietnam in the thunder and rain of monsoon nights, 25 feet and 600 mph over the tops of the jungle, you will “feel” the feelings of all of his books, down to the marrow of your bones. Curt Farley treats the politics of love and war, in sometimes a chilling perspective within the temptations that surround our human world. Not without passion and compassion, ROOM AT THE END OF THE HALL examines an older couple’s inability to communicate love when separated by a nursing home’s insensitivity, and murder! CALL SIGN COCAINE, and GRAY WALLS, GRAY WOLVES AND THE WIND are hard hitting, exposes of the desperate sides of the human child in all of us. New projects in LAST CALL TO GLORY, and a Vietnam War and political story…THE FALCON’S CRY, will augment the talents of Curt Farley in future writings.
“Been there, done it, lived it, felt it…” says Curt Farley, “Don’t ever try to tell me that the plot is fictitious or can’t happen…it did happen!”