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<p class="MsoNormal"><u>## Cleora</u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u>This is a great origins tale.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had a cockatiel and he certainly was an escape
artist.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The piece is informative, as
origin stories are supposed to be. I assume they are in the parrot family. I
know that parrots’, in general, are not night<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">
</span>flyers. Am I right?</u><br>
851 words<br>
Why Cockatiel Wings Cross<br>
by C. S. Boyd<br>
<br>
Back when the world was new, and before humans introduced clocks, there were
many birds but not as many as there are now. One of these birds was a Tiel.
Tiels were uninteresting birds with dull grey feathers a white bib under their
beaks, and bright orange cheeks. Perhaps this is why tiels were such curious
birds.\</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Now, there was one tiel in particular that was more curious
than most. His mother called him Cocky. His father sometimes called him Cocky,
but mostly, he called him other things which we will not mention in this story
since it doesn't really matter. <br>
Well, anyway, Cocky, when he got old enough to fly, would launch himself from
the edge of the nest hole and fly around and around the tree</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l2 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Can
I assume that the nest was not an open bowl shape, but rather that of an
arbor or closed top basket with a side hole?</u></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.25in"><u><span style="text-decoration:
none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">. As he grew stronger, he flew faster and faster and started
flying higher and higher until he could almost look down on the tree where the
nest was.<br>
"Don't fly so high," admonished his mother.</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l3 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>It
would have been safer for him to fly higher than the trees if he were
going to fly so fast? And how can you fly straight in a forest, unless you
are above the trees?</u></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.25in"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.25in">"Straighten out your flight,"
advised his father. "You won't get anywhere flying in circles. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There is nothing to eat at the top of this tree."<br>
"I just wanted to see what is up there," insisted Cocky.<br>
"Well, from now on, you and your clutch mates are going to need to go with
your mother and me to learn to forage for food. It is time you learned how and
where to search," said his father.</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l3 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>We
already know that his father is talking.</u></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br>
"OK," said Cocky, reluctantly.<br>
And, so he did. But, at night when the other birds were asleep, Cocky would go
exploring. One night he was out so long that he barely got home before the sun
peeked over the horizon. He was so tired, he almost missed landing on the edge
of the hole to the nest.</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l3 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>Can
these birds see well enough at night to fly? </u></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br>
He stumbled in and plopped down exhausted at the feet of his mother and father.<br>
"Where have you been," demanded his father.<br>
Cocky was barely able to move, but that didn't dampen his excitement. "I
flew higher than I have ever flown before," he said. "I almost
reached the firmament at the top of the sky."<br>
"Oh, no!" exclaimed his mother. She moved quickly to him and tried to
gather him under her wings. She looked at Cocky's father. "You must do
something. You have to stop our son from doing this crazy thing."<br>
Cocky's father looked at him with a serious expression. "Cocky, you must
stop trying to fly so high. You must never go into the firmament."<br>
For several days Cocky heeded his parents warning, but he couldn't help but
wonder what would happen. Every day he would stand gazing up at the firmament
at the top of the sky and wonder.<br>
One day, he could stand it no longer. Instead of flying in a circle to gain
height, he flew straight up. He flew and he flew and he flew. It got colder and
colder and still he flew. Finally, ice forming on his wing feathers, he reached
the firmament. He grasp it with his feet and stuck his head up into the ceiling
of the sky. Water filled his nostrils and he tried to pull his head out, but it
was stuck. He pushed against the barrier with all his might, but then the tips
of his flight feathers went through. The sun began to bleach the feathers on
top of his head. After what seemed like forever, he pulled free. He was so
tired and so cold that he began to fall. As he fell, the air grew warmer. As
the ice began to thaw, he was able to spread his wings and glide to a landing
at the bottom of the tree where the nest was.<br>
At first his family didn't recognize him because the feathers on top of his
head were standing straight up and some were white and some yellow.<br>
"Cocky!" exclaimed his mother, "What has happened to you?"<br>
"I flew up to the roof in the sky," said Cocky. He was so tired and
scared he couldn't tell them what happened.<br>
"But, your head," said his father, "the feathers are yellow and
sticking up." <br>
"And your wings," said one of his clutch mates. "Your flight
wings are so long now that they cross over your back."<br>
Cocky looked around. Sure enough with his wings folded at his side, his flight
wings were crossing over his back. He spread and closed his wings several
times, and each time the long flight feathers crossed first one and then the
other on top.<br>
And so it was that all Cocky tiel's descendants had long flight feathers that
crossed over their back when they folded their wings and the feathers on top of
their head were yellow and stood up in a crest. <br>
Cockatiels are one of the fastest flying birds of the bird family reaching
speeds up to 48 mph (80 kph), and their mood is clearly communicated by the
position of their yellow crest. They are curious birds, climb using their beaks
to pull themselves up, and are accomplished escape artists.</p>
<ul style="margin-top:0in" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l3 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in"><u>That
is very true.<br>
--------</u></li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">## Deana </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"><u>As usuall, I found the reading very engaging. An overall
suggestion I have is that this section is in danger of being too much of a list
of experiences. Some introductory<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">
</span>sentences to tie them together<span style="mso-spacerun:yes">
</span>would be helpful. </u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%">Chapter 13.</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%">Woodland Wanderings</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%">Curt loved the outdoors. One of his
professors said that he was the finest natural field biologist he had had the
pleasure of teaching. Many of Curt’s friends were hikers and climbers. On
long weekends or school holidays, they loved nothing better than to head out
into the desert or up in to the mountains. Not to be left out, Tammy and
I learned to hike. She was a marvel at picking the easiest path down and
around boulders and drop offs. She enjoyed the scents and sounds of the
woods. On one trip to Yosemite, Curt put
up a small two-man tent a good distance from the nearest road. We hung
our packs up in a tree. Since the tent was barely wide enough for our two
sleeping bags, I tied Tammy to a nearby picnic table. She barked
intermittently during the night. We were camping with friends from
school. I didn’t want her to disturb everyone’s sleep a second
time. On the next night, I took Tammy into the tent sharing the
edge of my sleeping bag with her. She woke me by leaning hard against my
side. Her ribs vibrated with almost inaudible growls. When I woke
Curt, he peered outside. He found that a large mother bear and her two cubs
were raiding our campsite. Tammy’s barking had spared us a visit the
previous night. The voices of our friends called back and forth.
Michael, the boy sleeping next to our tent kept whispering to his girlfriend
Chris to turn her flashlight on the bear to scare her away. Chris hissed
back a frightened “no.” A baby bear was ensconced on the foot of her sleeping
bag happily munching down a bag of potato chips. A crash came from behind
our tent and all I could picture was our friend Rusty who had brought a folding
cot going over in a tangle. It was actually mama bear throwing an ice
chest to open it. Curt could see Michael trying to inch away like a
six-foot caterpillar. He had tied himself into a mummy bag so tightly
that he couldn’t get free. When the bears ambled away, we gathered to assess
the damage. We discovered a fat raccoon seated on the picnic table
devouring a box of pudding mix. His rotundity attested to his habit of
following the bear family on its rounds.</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%">Curt and I were the only ones with any food
remaining untouched after the raid. Our packs hung up in the tree had
been too much trouble to disturb with so much easier plunder around the
campsite. The next morning I cooked oatmeal with raisins and pancakes for
all with the dry supplies I had carried. Tammy was fine too as she had
carried her dog food in small saddlebags on her harness. They too had been
stored hanging over a branch in the tree. </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%">Another trip took us to climb Mount Baden
Powell. Tammy’s claws were natural crampons to give her purchase as we
climbed. I spent as much time sliding back down as I did climbing.
More experienced climbers followed to catch me as I slid passed them. I
didn’t try to have Tammy guide. I needed both hands to hold on to rocks
and roots. I even gave away my ice axe because I thought I was at greater
risk of cutting off a foot trying to chop footholds with it. When we
reached the top, our names were recorded in the book and we all sat around
enjoying snacks before slithering back down. I decided that hiking trails
were fun, but I would remain at base camp with a good book the next time Curt
and his friends wanted to climb another mountain! Tammy thoroughly
enjoyed the experience and kept within reach in her customary position on my
left as we climbed. </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:-.25in;line-height:200%;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo3;tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:
Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>I think you need a transition sentence before
or at the beginning of the next paragraph.</u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%">We bought a used tandem single-speed bicycle
and Tammy learned to run beside the bike on a long leash. She started out
almost pulling us and as she tired, she dropped back beside me. When she
started to lag behind the bike, we stopped for a five-minute rest. Then
she was eager to go again. She got very excited whenever we brought the
bike out of the storage shed. She quickly learned to keep on the far side
of it away from the road and enjoyed our trips as much as we did. </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%">Tammy liked the beach too, racing up and down
chasing the waves. She was puzzled that the water didn’t taste
good. Of course she never ran too far before returning to my side.
Only once did she forget her primary concern, (looking after me,) to race off
in pursuit of a rabbit that burst from cover nearly beneath her paws. She
went from a sedate ramble to a dead run in seconds. A call from me
brought her trotting back across the brush with a slightly guilty expression
for forgetting her duty. She liked lakes and rivers best for water
environments. We bought an inflatable canoe. Tammy overcame her
dislike of swimming to chase us across a lake. Her desire to always keep
me in sight resulted in her overcoming her timidity in any situation.</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:1.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:-.25in;line-height:200%;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo3;tab-stops:list 1.5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:
Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>I never met a lab that didn’t love to swim.</u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%">The summer we graduated from college, we
drove across country visiting 21 states. Since we only had about four
hundred dollars to spend, we camped out each night and cooked over a camp
stove. Most of our money went for gas and for entrance fees to sights
along the way. We stopped to pick up my youngest brother in Michigan and drove to Washington D.C.
At the national zoo, kudu came to the fence and hung their heads over to call
greetings to Tammy. The Siberian tiger appeared to be wondering if guide
dogs were good eating. </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%">At the F.B.I. building, our tour guide
demonstrated shooting off a revolver and a machine gun. Tammy only lifted
her head from where it was resting on my foot to glance at him. She
seemed to think that if I weren’t worried about all the noise, then there was
nothing to concern her.</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%">When I climbed up a ladder exploring a
blockhouse at Fort
Bridger, I turned around
to find that Tammy had followed me up. Of course, she couldn’t quite
manage getting down the ladder. Curt had to carry her down.</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;
line-height:200%"> </p>
<div style="mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-bottom:solid windowtext 1.0pt;
mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;padding:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;
margin-left:.5in;margin-right:0in">
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;
line-height:200%;border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt;
padding:0in;mso-padding-alt:0in 0in 1.0pt 0in">Since she had never been trained
to use escalators safely, Curt was put to the task of carrying her on those
too. She seemed to smile and wagged her tail frantically each time she
was given a ride in this fashion. I sometimes got the impression she went
out of her way to find reasons to be carried. Since she had now finished
growing, she was a hefty ninety-pound load. This was just another task for that
guy who insisted on being a part of our family, dog porter. </p>
</div>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal"><u>## Sally</u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal"><u><span style="text-decoration:none"> </span></u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal"><u>I love this poem...<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It is the beginning of a story. It would be a
great way to start the story. It is a grabber. A hook. Kudos.</u> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal"><u>I think a title would be a good idea.</u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">She wasn’t prepared to love him so fiercely,</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;
mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:
Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>This is a powerful, passionate first sentence.
As a beginning line, the object is not defined and could have been a lover, a
child, or a character from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Beauty and the
Beast. </i></u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">This somber black Labrador
retriever who arrived</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">To become her third and, perhaps, last guide dog.</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;
mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:
Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>The last part of this line really intensifies
the story told.</u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal"> </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">He sized her up quickly with intelligent eyes,</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">This aging woman standing before him,</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">Worn down by her burdensome sack of worries and
sorrow,</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">And intuited she needed more than his guide work.</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;
mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:
Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>These last 3 lines summarize the situation
and rivet the reader’s attention.</u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">When she sat and called his name, he lovingly rested</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">His broad Labrador
head on her lap and </p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">Made her understand he would bury that sack in a
deep, deep hole</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal" style="margin-left:.5in;text-indent:-.25in;
mso-list:l1 level1 lfo4;tab-stops:list .5in"><span style="font-family:Symbol;mso-fareast-font-family:Symbol;mso-bidi-font-family:
Symbol"><span style="mso-list:Ignore">·<span style="font:7.0pt "Times New Roman"">
</span></span></span><u>The burying part of the above line is
especially good.</u></p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal">And care for her with all his gentle being.</p>
<p class="aolmailmsonormal"> </p>
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