Birds of a Feather
intro
My grandfather taught me some of the most important things I have ever learned. People always told me they weren’t important. When I saved their a**es, they realized how important those things really were.
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Little cowboy boots dangled off the swing, I looked towards my grandfather as he pushed us slowly back and forth. His signature shotgun by his side. He looked over towards the left, where his pigeon coop was, the blue-grey paint starting to peal off. With a grunt he got up, he took my hand and lead me towards the coop. The door squeaked, as he closed it behind us, everything went black. My little heart started to race. A rough hand, covered in calluses and wrinkles, was placed on my shoulder. I watched as the other hand slowly pulled the metal chain, turning the light on. He led me over towards the bucket of feed.
“Fill that coffee can full of seed,” His voice deep and scruffy, somehow still heartwarming. I did as I was told, when I was done I looked up at him. Little red curls bouncing all about. He motioned me towards a new door, I watched as he unlatched it, rust started to flake off. Slowly it opened, with a high pitched squeak, the hinges clearly needing to be oiled. I peaked in, my heart stopped, I backed up until I ran into the wall. Panicking I looked around. His deep blue eyes looked at me, he knew, it was obvious, there was no use trying to hide my fear of birds from him.
“Come here my little Honey Bee,” his large hand stretched out for mine, I took it. “They won’t hurt you, they’re more afraid of you then you are of them.” He took the coffee can and fed the birds. The large hands motioned for me to go over to him, I did as directed. My heart thumping, hands sweaty, I was in the middle of my biggest nightmare. As I approached him, he reached into a cubby where a nest had been made, slowly, he pulled out a baby bird. The comforting voice told me to cup my little hands together, when I did, the fuzzy little pigeon was placed in my palms. Our tiny hearts beating in sync, I started to relax, realizing what my grandfather had said was right. We both were scared. When my heart came to a slow steady pace, so did that small ball of fuzz. Across the mans face was a comforting smile.
. authors note .
--So, there were a handful of you who were willing to give me a second chance when it came to writing again. And reading my story, so this is for you.. I hope you guys are interested, fave, comment follow. I will notify if you would like me to. I love each and every one of my readers.♥--
Riahdeere
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