When I was a little girl I loved to sit on the old wheel swing in the back yard. Swinging higher and higher and singing even higher ... about love and friendship.
There were no threes around the swing, but I can remember finding little dead birds on the ground. Little featherless wings, cold and with swollen eyes. My friend and I burried them in matchboxes, made little crosses and improvised sad songs.
---
Then, one bright summers day, thirty years later, the memory suddenly came to me. As lightning from a clear sky so to speak. - Or not this memory at first, but the answer, the reason why I found those little dead birds on the ground. Their mother had made their nest inside my swing. And as I was swinging higher and higher, they got their first and last flight ever. Falling out. Boom, to the ground ...
---
This illustration was made for a completely different story. The book "Time is a butterfly". But as you can see, it fits very well with the childhood memory.
Beautiful illustration! That is such an interesting memory. Doesn't it feel strange when as an adult some of the mysteries of childhood are solved? I remember the first time my niece saw a homeless person she said, "Look, mommy, that man is sleeping in the park! And there is another man sleeping in the park!" She thought it was a positive thing. I wonder when she will realize the truth.
SvarSlettYes, it was a strange experience, and I'm glad the mystery is solved. :) - It's good your little niece can have positive views of her world. Sleeping in the park sounds really nice if it's warm outside.
SvarSlettAnd childrens view on things is a good reminder for us grown ups to think about our surroundings from a different perspective. I love it :)