On the Alberta/Montana Border: A Little Feather-Brained

She was supposed to be raking leaves.

But you know how an assigned job can be forgotten. An assigned worker…sidetracked.

It happens to me. Once…

Never mind.

Chicken Little Feathers (of the Merrywoods Feathers) was supposed to be working.

C. Little, as she preferred to be called, had been asked to rake the leaves in the front yard.

Now admittedly, the front yard could only be considered enormous, taking in, as it did, most of the Hinderley forest.

But C. Little, full of energy and good intentions started in with a will.

A full hour later, with several enormous piles of well-raked leaves behind her and several thousand more ahead, she decided to take a well-deserved break.

Any of us would have done it.

She flopped down into one of her heaps of crunchy, brightly-coloured leaves.

For a few seconds, she lay there happily, totally relaxed.

A small breeze sprang up, cooling her slightly over-heated self.

But this breeze, unbeknownst to her, also twirled cheerfully around the giant tree just over her head.

An oak tree.

With dozens of baby oaks—AKA: acorns—nestled snugly against their stalwart parent.

Well most of them were snug.

One or two, not so much.

You can probably guess what happened next.

One of them lost its grip and dropped straight down (Not far from the tree!) onto the head of the little would-be gardener thirty feet below.

Now I know there are often pithy comparisons made between mighty oaks and their tiny, little acorns.

And acorns are comparatively tiny.

But drop one from thirty feet onto your head and see how you feel.

Am I right?

C. Little gasped and straightened, one wing over the rapidly-swelling bruise on her little head. She looked up into the tree and came to the only conclusion possible. A piece of the sky, had somehow become detached and fallen.

That sky barely glimpsed between the thick branches of the towering oak. Okay, yes, there are other conclusions. Each of which would have been vastly superior to the one jumped to.

But we’re talking about a little, feather-headed chicken.

C. Little leaped to her feet and screamed.

Loud enough for one of her nearby friends, Goosy Loosy (don’t look at me. I didn’t name these people) to hear her. She hurried over.

“What is it, Lit? What’s wrong?”

“Loos! The sky is falling! The sky is falling!” C. Little pointed in the general direction of up.

Goosy Loosy tipped her feathery head, peered basically along the trajectory of the pointing feather and frowned a rather goosy frown.

She then looked back at C. Little. “I don’t see...”

It was at that precise moment the second of the not-so-snug acorns lost its not-so-powerful hold on its parent.

Hitting Miss Loosy on top of that aforementioned goosy head.

“Gahhh!” she screamed. “It’s true! It’s true!”

Okay, say what you will about panic. It has been known to motivate people to do amazing things.

Most of them bad.

“We must go and warn the king!” C. Little screamed.

“The entire kingdom is at risk!” she added.

Just like that, the two of them were off.

I won’t bore you with the details of their encounters with several other members of the feather-headed variety that ‘peopled’ the forest.

Suffice it to say their hysteria was contagious and leave it there.

Soon there was a panicky, but determined group of would-be saviours on their way to warn the king of the imminent danger to/probable destruction of, his kingdom.

Partway there, they stumbled upon a rather shifty, conniving fellow by the name of Loxy. First name Foxy.

Who, quite notably (and unlike the others) wasn’t panicking.

“Wooah, Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “What seems to be the problem?”

Now, normally, when one has a mob situation, the individuals in it have ceased to think as individuals.

This was far from a normal situation.

But part of it, notably the not-thinking-for-themselves part, was still very much in effect.

Moving on…

“You might not have noticed it yet,” C. Little started out…

“BUT THE SKY IS FALLING!” The rest of the group chimed in.

Mr. Loxy looked up at the cloudless, blue sky, then back to them. “Seriously?”

Several feathered heads nodded.

He raised a rather foxy eyebrow. “Huh!”

“We’re on our way to warn the king!” C. Little said importantly.

“I bow to your selflessness and industry,” Mr. Loxy said. Again he looked at the sky.

“It’s funny how serene everything looks,” he added. “You’d never know there was a problem.”

“Hah! Remember the Titanic! And how serene everything appeared in the early minutes after striking the iceberg!”

Everyone turned to look at Miss Loosy.

“Say what?” Mr. Loxy said. “Ti-…”

Goosy Loosy’s eyes shifted away. Then back. “…-tanic. It was a ship. That…you know what? Never mind.”

Mr. Loxy stared. “Ahem. Back to our discussion. You’re on your way to warn the king?”

C. Little nodded. “Yes. It’s our civic duty.”

“It’s a long way to the palace from here,” Mr. Loxy said. “Look. Why don’t you come to my apartment and just post things on Forestbook. Everyone will get the message.”

He went on, “And of course they will believe it. And share it millions of times. The king is sure to hear.”

“Oooh! That sounds so much easier,” Ducky Lucky said. He held out one of his little, duck feet.

“All this walking is making my arches fall,” he added tearfully.

Everyone looked and nodded. Indeed those arches had fallen.

The feather-headed group thought Mr. Loxy made sense (see above vis-à-vis mob mentality) and followed him toward his apartment/lair.

It will probably not come as a surprise to learn that Mr. Loxy, contrary to what he said and what the others believed, had absolutely no intention of helping them out.

Admit it. Are any of you surprised here?

In fact, he was more concerned with what was going into his stomach than what may be falling out of the sky.

I’m sure you’ve guessed that none of the good-hearted but woefully-ignorant citizens emerged from Mr. Loxy’s lair.

There are several lessons here.

1. When the world around you is panicking, don’t.

2. Seek credible sources.

3. Not everyone has your best interests at heart.

4. Troubles bring out the good/bad in people.

5. Be one of the good..

Today’s post is a word challenge!