Today I found myself wandering through a high summer meadow under a kingfisher sky. I hadn’t visited a place like this for a very long time. The grass was tall and infused with fragrant wildflowers and everything was waving in the wind.
As I made my way along the lovely slope, I tripped over something. I hadn’t seen it lying there on the ground because the grass was so tall. I bent down and picked it up. It was a halo. Not mine. I wondered whose it could be. I did a quick scan of the kingfisher sky. Nothing up there, just a cloud. I took a closer look at the halo. It wasn’t anything like a proper halo. It looked like a cheap coat hanger all bent out of shape. So I tried it on. It fit. I didn’t know what to make of that. It made me feel silly.
I checked my back to see if any wings had sprouted. Nothing. I stood there for a while in the high summer meadow with a halo on my head, just to see what might happen. Nothing. Only the wind in the tall grass and wildflowers and me feeling more and more silly. I kept checking my back for wings. Still nothing. Then I looked around to see if there might be a discarded harp or something lying in the tall grass, but all I came up with was—you guessed it—nothing. So I cocked an ear toward the kingfisher sky, just in case a heavenly voice might be calling. Nope. Okay, enough was enough.
Very little was happening in that high summer meadow. Hardly anything at all. Just me standing there under a kingfisher sky with an unflattering halo on my head and the wind moving through tall grass and wildflowers. I took off the halo and put it back where I found it. Then I made my way home and wrote up this little account. Here it is for you to read. Now I feel really silly.