This nearly weightless feather, tendrils curled from a wave’s sweep and gravity’s tender embrace, was one of the last things I saw before my own fall without grace on a cliff by the sea.
By a trick of light and shadow the feather appears to be floating above a black sand beach.
I am not among the people who believe souls have a quantifiable physical heft. I think they are no less real, but more weightless still, than a feather stolen away from a bright body that still soars in the sun and dances on ribbons of moonlight.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Author: Stephanie
In her spare time, Stephanie works full-time, and then some, as an attorney. She has published articles and delivered talks in arcane fields like forensic evidentiary issues, jury instructions, and expert scientific witness preparation. She attended law school near the the banks of the Charles River and loves that dirty water; she will always think of Boston as her home.
You are welcome to take a look at her Facebook author page, or follow @SMartinGlennon on Twitter and @schnitzelpond on Instagram. Bonus points for anyone who understands the Instagram handle.
All content on this blog, unless otherwise attributed, is (c) 2012-2023 by Stephanie M. Glennon and should not be reproduced (in any form other than re-blogging in accordance with the wee Wordpress buttons at the bottom of each post) without the express permission of the domain holder.
View all posts by Stephanie
Love in the Spaces 
Stephanie, that small preposition “on”, rather than “off a cliff”, makes all the difference. 🙂
janet
So true!
Beautiful words, vision, and thoughts. How/where did you find the subject? Thanks! You cheered my day.
In beautiful (but slippery) Vik, Iceland. Wear hiking shoes with traction!
Finding a feather always seems to have meaning to me since I read Richard Bach’s Illusions.
I’m putting that on my reading list–thank you!