• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 01

Mrs. Waterflower, Young Juniper, & The Air Travelers

Who was the first to see the lizard’s tail regenerate? Maybe it was someone who brought a telescope on board a flying ship, or maybe it was the man who fell safely—with openness—right into the arms of those he trusted, loved. The point is, the lizard waited with gusto as it grew back its own tail, and the travelers saw.

People started traveling by air, in ships and canoes, a long time ago. They wanted to see everything, and of course they got to see so much, but not everything. They missed Mrs. Waterflower pouring her morning coffee; they missed young Juniper running away from the nanny, playfully, as rescue horses grazed not too far away. Still, the people launched their ships. Some even grew wings and flew alone.

They missed the loving people catching the lost man. They missed the houses being built, one by one, and then the dogs running in and out of the houses. They missed the deer waking up as the sun shone. They missed lady Waterflower build a trailer, after years of dreaming of one. They missed little Juniper sleeping inside of it, on the road, underneath a calm night—quiet—surrounded by open land.

When the air travelers saw the lizard grow back its own tail, they shouted to each other, from ship to ship. They also appreciated the vast shapes of land and water. The travelers with wings moved down to get a closer look at the lizard, and so did the ones in canoes. The travelers on larger ships asked to fly toward the earth, so they could see, too.


Mrs. Waterflower, Young Juniper, & The Air Travelers

But as they all got closer, something happened. Mrs. Waterflower stopped driving and told young Juniper to get out with her, to walk through the pines, and then through the desert, and then right into a place where they could understand the tug and bloom they felt in their own hearts. A traveler saw them, one who happened to be in his own canoe, and felt something a lot like a village.

Maybe the lizard had a village, too, when you looked even closer. The man who fell into loving arms found a place to belong. It was so scary, to be this vulnerable, but there is risk in flying and there is risk in navigating solid ground. One can do both well, I think. The travelers appreciated the vast shapes of land and water. Mrs. Waterflower and young Juniper grew something on their own, and together.