I watched from the top of a boulder as the ones I called the angelic ones gathered beneath the blue glacier. I had not figured out why this was the place they chose to meet every evening during the winter. They could have met almost anywhere to divvy up their bounty. But each day as the sun set, this is where I found them.
There were eight of them, four males and four females. They all had long blonde hair so light that it appeared transparent. The men held their hair back with vine-like ropes and wore drab white coats with long sleeves that reached to their finger tips , and had skirt hems that grazed the ground. The females allowed their tendrils to fall freely framing their faces. Their silhouettes were visible through their sheer blue cloaks. The moon was bright and as it reflected off the glacier the angelic ones were bathed in light.
The tall male laughed as he sang out, “Berries, sweet berries were my find today.” Another chanted, “Seeds, filling seeds, are my bounty.” Then one of the females added her voice, “Roots, I pulled roots for a fine stew.” Soon all of the voices joined the merriment as they sang about their finds.
They transferred abundance from their large hunting packs into individual parcels. As I watched bits and pieces fell to the ground. I could not imagine where they found the food. One night I had tried following them to see if I could discover the garden they foraged, but they had disappeared into the darkness. So tonight as usual, I waited and watched and hoped. They continued to dance and sing until shortly before sunrise. Then just as quickly as they had come, they picked up their packs and disappeared.
The blue glacier was now barely visible. Clouds hid the moon and the winter sun was late to rise. My heart began to pulsate when I heard the growl of an animal nearby. It appeared as a large black shadow against the glacier. I could not discern what it was. I held my breath and tried not to cry out as I watched it devour the fragments left behind by the angelic ones.
I reminded myself that I had nearly made it through the winter. Spring would come and food would once again be plentiful. But my empty being was not convinced. As I was about to give up, the shadow disappeared. Daylight returned. I could see the glacier once again.
I flew from my perch with little hope. But to my delight, I found seeds aplenty on the ice. And I ate, grateful for another day.
Three Word Wednesday: drab; pulsate; tendril