Goodbye Barn Swallow

The birds eat from my hand, as I gaze into the sunrise, and appreciate the breeze from my balcony. The sky is so clear, and the air is so fresh. All the leaves are falling from the trees; must be Fall already. That probably means I won't get to see these birds as much as they travel to new places. I would give the last of my days just to fly in the sky with them. I'm reluctant to think that I can't, after all, my parents tell me I can do anything my heart desires. All I have to do is dream.

My teachers used to tell me the same thing, before my freedom was stripped away from me. I reach in the bag of Bird Seed next to me, to feed some more birds that started to show up. One after the other, they feed from my hand, as I gaze into the soft sun, hiding behind a single cloud that appeared. A gust of wind blows cool wind that scares off all of the birds, all expect for one bird – A Barn swallow. It twitches its head to the side, and stares at my hand, as if it's asking for food. So, I put my hand out, with Bird Seed still resting in my palm. But it jumps away from my hand, and looks at me. Maybe it's just scared of me, so I put the Seed on the balcony railing, so the Barn can eat at its own pace.

Hours go by, and the wind gets stronger. No other birds are showing up, but the Barn is persistent and stays with me. The sky is filled with clouds and the sun is hiding still. I hold my finger out and the Barn jumps on it. I was surprised, but I didn't want to move too much. I never caught this much trust from a bird before. I slowly use my other finger to pet its head, and the Barn allows me to.

The sun came out from hiding, but by this time it was time for the sun to set. The Barn jumped back onto my balcony railing and looked at the Bird Seed. But I had something better for it. I roll back inside my house in my wheelchair, to the kitchen, and roll back outside with bread in my hand. But the Barn is gone. In its place, is three birds, huddled up around the bird seed. I'm left disappointed, with bread in my hand. I gaze into the sunset, while the birds eat from my hand, and the clouds become a storm.