Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.
Oh, the mornings have been grey, damp, and dreary this week. Today, after being drizzled on, my dog Arthur and I returned from our walk to find his sister Ila bouncing around the garden in welcome (like we’d been away for days rather than 20 minutes). She’s always cheerful – our ray of furry sunshine – regardless of anything…the weather, her wibbly wobblyness, or her lack of eyesight and hearing.
Having greeted her properly, taken off Arthur’s lead, and sat down on the stairs to remove my boots, she came gamboling down the hall, knocking over her brother in her enthusiasm. As she pushed her little face into my lap, she clearly wanted more fuss. I obliged and cupped her head in my hands. But, it was then that I noticed that somewhere along the line she’d acquired a little friend!
Crawling across her nose, up between her eyes, circling her whiskers, and generally marching around her face at a rate of knots, was a tiny blue beetle. “Ohhh,” I said. Then asked, “Who’s your friend?” Very gently I put my hand down to intercept the beetle. Carefully, I flicked his little blue body into the palm of my hand, whereupon he just sat there, not moving, appearing perfectly happy.
Lifting him up to look at him more closely and making my way towards the kitchen window and the back door, I studied him. He was small but beautifully formed, a sort of lozenge shape with six, spiky articulated legs, an oval black head, and two long, bobbly antennae, which waved about independently of each other.
The thing that made me catch my breath though was his colour; a lustrous rainbow of iridescent blues and greens that seemed to morph and shift as the light bounced off him, changing the depth of the different pigments. The colours appeared to ripple and swim in different directions from different angles, through silvers and cobalts to limes and forest greens, with undercurrents of gold throughout.
I found myself gazing into the clear, vivid, watery blues of a Caribbean sea; the shape-shifting opalescent glimmering of petrol on water; and the transparent, refracted light of an emerald caught in candlelight all at once!
Gently, I moved my hand backwards and forwards in the light to get a better look and take everything in – my heart and imagination taking flight together. Standing there, holding my breath, I was transported into the wide open spaces of his colour, breathing in the promise of secret spring, and scorching, spiced summers which were in such contrast to the greyness of the morning’s reality.
He was so perfect he made me smile, lifted my spirits, and made my heart sing. As I gazed at him, he appeared to welcome my inspection, raising one articulated leg to wave at me, while his antennae searched the air like a mine sweeper. Though small (no bigger than two grains of rice stuck together), he exuded a confidence that belied his tiny size.
Having sat for several moments whilst I studied him, he suddenly took off with purpose across my hand and up to the tips of my fingers, whereupon he raised himself up on his back legs. He tasted the air before taking off again down my fingers to circle my palm, all at a leisurely pace.
Deciding I must now say goodbye to Ila’s colourful friend, and noting that Ila was staring up at me from my feet, I said: “OK Ila, say goodbye, it’s time to let him go.” Turning, I made my way out of the back door and into the garden. I stood with my hand raised to the breeze as he paused, wiggled his antennae, and then elegantly spread his sculptured, metallic wings and took flight, flying off into the morning breeze.
Once gone, I sat down on one of my garden chairs as Ila came up to me, pushing her furry self firmly into my leg. I put my hand down and fondled her thick, velvet ears while pondering the brief encounter. Yet another sign that Spring is beginning to pull her silver chariot across the land as Winter once more settles down for sleep. Next year he’ll rise again, comb out his beard with long, icy fingers, pick up his staff, and stride out, nodding a greeting to Autumn as he passes her by.
I always see the seasons as characters with their own distinctive personalities, and their various fauna and flora galloping along beside them. Like my beetle, I see them all as friends and appreciate their very different attributes.
Sighing deeply, I felt the plonk, plonk of raindrops on my head, and so I ushered Ila back inside before we’d have need of dog towels, smiling happily to myself.
Are you feeling creative? We are proud to have a hugely talented community on Rest Less, which is why we’re so excited to open up a section of the site dedicated to showcasing the wonderful and diverse writing of our members. If you have a piece of creative writing that you’d like to share with the Rest Less community – you can do so here.