Well, theresittie Then. He doesn't even know. The high snowy mountains are imposing beautiful and dangerous at the same time. theresittie Then, with his backpack. The SNOU, theresittie Then. He doesn't even know. The high snowy mountains are imposing beautiful and dangerous at the same time. theresittie Then, with his backpack. The blowing cold wind blows right through his battered grey clothing. He shimbs occasionally. Neither child nor crow looks at him. People walk deep into their thick scarves and coats, along the bench he sits on. His feet are cold and he tries to keep moving, so as not to freeze. He looks around and doesn't recognize the environment. In the distance he sees the wooden houses and the Christmas trees behind the windows. It looks attractive and warm. He decides to go there, because sitting there doesn't solve anything. Perhaps there is someone who notices him, and more beautiful, someone who offers him shelter and food. He puts the pass in, if only to get warm again. I'm sure there's a barn out there where he can hide. He's stayed in a barn or barn so many times. He imagines the delicious smelling hay, where he can crawl in and make him warm. The cows and other animals that give off their heat. He's putting a gear on top of it.
The trails are free of snow and when it passes through a large meadow, people cross country skiing imperturbably. The cross-country trails are criss-crossed and do not seem to have a final destination in the crystal-shimmering snow.
He does, and at the first house, he looks inside desiring. The fireplace decorated with Christmas socks and Christmas lights encourage him to tap on the window. Not that he sees anyone, but his ticking is clearly audible.

A little girl walks into the room with a wagging dog behind it. He taps the window again and she sees him, but walks away again. Without any reaction. He doesn't understand anything. Until he hears the child's voice and calls him. He rushes to her, hoping she has a sandwich.
The girl looks at his battered clothes and asks:
How did you get so battered? You must be cold and hungry?
I was ambushed by a snowstorm over the mountains and lost my way, he said.
Where were you on your way, then?
Home, far across the border from here. But I am now too tired, hungry and too cold to make it. The chances of me running into birds of prey along the way are great, and I'm too weak to defend myself.
Well, said the little girl, why don't you get some rest with our chickens and grab a grain? I'm sure there's still room on a stick to sleep. They will welcome you warmly. Come with me.
That's very kind and nice of them, said the carrier pigeon, and he was already shining at the thought. It would do his feather suit well and fill his tummy.
What's your name? The girl asked.
Wilbur.
How long can I stay?
As long as you want, Wilbur, she said.

Tomorrow I'll see if I'll continue flying, Wilbur thought. Maybe in the spring...

#yoorsdecember #city #sittie


Header photo: https://pixabay.com/photos/moutain-natural-nature-landscape-4696927/

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