Albatross

I can still easily recall the beginning of my first migration; the bitterness swarming the air, the dry crunch of dead leaves falling from their spindly branches, and the impending sense of urgency looming over all. The time had come for all of those whose wings had shed their soft nesting feathers to take flight across the vast ocean between us and our home of the freezing months, where the sun still was bright and the lands remained a lush green.

In years prior, those born the same year as I and younger were carried on the backs of the adults. Now we had grown too heavy; our wings were no longer weak and soft, instead having gained a new sharpness that marked the shoulders and wings of a flier.

Warmth had forsaken us far earlier than the elders of my village had predicted. A preemptive strike of frost had tarnished the flora in our home. Despite my youth, I could tell the fear that had settled over all of our lives in the worried tones that marked every hushed whisper between the adults. It was a part of the central core of my people to laugh in scorn at the idea of fear, so when those we younglings had looked to for bravery revealed how frightened they were, it became apparent to us all that something was gravely wrong.

The sun had stretched high into the sky when one of the village elders, an old, sinewy woman with the winters of her life etched deeply into her skin, announced from the center of our village, "Come quickly! All of you, make haste!"

Haphazard rows of my people lined the clearing at the heart of our village, packed tight enough for our shoulders to press against one another. "You all know the freezing months are here," the elder called out, her sharp voice tearing through the delicate silence.

"After much thought," she hesitated briefly, glancing to her side where another elder stood, "we have made the decision to begin the journey early this year."

Whispers flooded the crowd, tainted with words of confusion and fear. 

"But we weren't planning to leave for another three weeks! How will we be able to feed ourselves on the way?" cried out one of the villagers.

The few islands that had been mapped out on previous journeys served as places to stop and rest, but that was as far as their hospitality extended. They could not act as means for my people to sustain themselves. 

I shifted uneasily in my spot next to the nursery. Apprehension already prickled in my stomach, only enhanced by the sudden diversion of our plans. It was not unusual for some of the younglings to not survive their first journey alone, and I had never been the strongest out of my peers. All I had as an advantage was my nimbleness. This, as I would later find, would prove useless in the vast openness of the sky, where there was nothing for me to avoid.

The elders were quick to call for silence, snuffing out the whispers with a wave of a hand. “Our decision has been made. As for those who wish to remain here, we will respect their wishes.”

The hours ran together, a continuous stream of rushed preparations. A team of fliers, the strongest we had, were to carry the food in a net hanging below them. Shrill voices rose up from the village, calling out for rations and supplies.

I did my best to stay out of the way, finding safety from the noise in the sweet, familiar warmth of the nursery. I buried my nose into the nest of moss in which I slept. Never again after that night would I feel the damp softness against my skin. Instead, I would join the adults in their dark, hollow dens. I shivered at the thought. Before, I would have been excited at the idea of being welcomed into their ranks. Now I dug my fingers into the place of my childhood, desperately clinging to the last traces of youth that remained.

I cannot remember falling asleep, but the next time I opened my eyes golden tendrils already prickled over my surroundings. The chill of the night remained as I poked my head out of the nursery. Dust fell across my face, flurried into the air by the scrambling of feet. Many had already left, now tiny pinpricks of shadow against the tawny glow of the sun.

An adult came to us soon after I awoke, hurriedly sweeping us from the nursery towards the cliffside. Sleek gray wings sliced through the crisp air, flashing in the light. These were the true forms of my people, bereft of fumbling legs and arms, feathers and talons taking the place of swarthy skin and fingers. 

My toes sank into the withered grass as we walked closer to the cliffside. Salt prickled at my nose. I watched as one of the adults launched himself from the ground and over the ocean. His limbs twisted together, legs forming a sharp white tail tipped with black, arms elongating into elegant, sweeping wings of dappled gray. I clutched the hem of my tunic tighter, as if the fabric pressed between my hands could keep my fear at bay.

The wind raked its claws along my skin, pulling me towards the drop-off. The depths of the ocean loomed up, knives of rock thrusting skyward through the waves. Piercing cries ricocheted off the wall of bleached marble. 

The adult who had brought us ushered us towards the edge. "Watch how I do it," she pumped her legs, streaking forth until the ground gave way to open air. 

It was barely a moment before she transformed, limbs blurring together until she was unrecognizable. She tilted towards us, beating her wings against the wind ruffling her feathers, looping overhead. Her call echoed through the skies, beckoning us to her. 

A blur of brown shot past me, feet beating against the ground. Another youngling was the first to join her. The last wisp of earthy hair vanished from sight as she plummeted towards the water. An icy fist gripped my heart for the few, torturous moments before she emerged, wings pumping towards the sky.

One after another followed, until the thunder of a hundred beating wings filled my ears. Now only a few remained, shrinking back from the edge. I released my hold on the fabric of my tunic. Small stones scraped my heels as I darted towards the edge until the ground gave way to nothingness. The knifes of rocked jutted up towards me, looming closer every second that I fell. My heart threatened to burst forth through my chest. I latched onto the memories of the hours we had spent learning to fly back in the village. I stretched out my arms, fingers reaching out on either side. 

Warmth, swift and lively, flooded my senses, drowning out all else until I transformed. I twirled in the air, shrieking in joy as the salt-smelling breeze ran over through my feathers. Lashing my wings through the air, I flung myself forwards to join the rest of my people. 

The warmth I had basked in earlier disappeared as the day stretched on, an endless cycle of coasting through the sky and occasionally switching to the warmest current of air. I found myself dipping close enough to the ocean to feel the tiny droplets that flew up from it and counting the tiny fish darting past me. With the relentless beating of the sun against my back, I was grateful for the relief that it provided.

Every now and again, a larger wave would crest too close for me to stay dry. My throat yearned for the cool, clear streams running through our village. 

The dying sun cast broken circles of gold onto the ocean's surface, shifting like sand in the breeze. Night fell swiftly, as if someone had yanked a thick black cloth over our sight. A chill came with it, rippling past my feathers. Sleep tugged at my eyelids, beckoning with promise of relief from my burning shoulders. I pulled back, fearing the cold depths that would greet me if I allowed myself to slip away.

On and on we went, until it seemed that the night could last no longer, until finally dawn broke through the darkness, painting the clouds in vibrant hues of peach and gold. Life returned to the world, bleeding into every fleck of seafoam and droplet of salty water. A dark smear appeared in my vision, a wound of dark gray against the brilliance of the sunrise. I squinted; it was too large and high in the sky to be an island, too soon to be the land of summer. 

As we flew forth the smear shifted and morphed, growing larger and more bulbous the nearer we became. A storm, it turned out to be, laden and dark with rain that sent a cold wind to blow over us. Storms had been a nuisance in the past, rarely ever fierce enough to make a true difference to our journey. 

The storms of the past, however, were never so large as to blot out the sun several days in advance. Thunder followed lightning sooner and sooner until we found the violent torrent of rain beating down onto our backs. Our feathers could only do so much to shield us from the chill that followed. A fork of lightning split the group, scattering us all into different directions. I lost sight of the rest of my people, the clouds swarming too thick for us to keep together. 

Bright flashes of light cracked across my vision, coating the world in white for a moment before it faded. Rain dragged down my wings and poured into my eyes, blinding me and the wind raked through my feathers, freezing and sharp as thorns.

Praying that I could find safety above the clouds, I angled my wings upwards, beating them with a desperate fervor. The air sharpened as I ascended, freezing the rain to my feathers like an icy coat of armor. It thinned and thinned until my throat seemed to crumple in on itself. Higher still, I pressed on, black circles dancing and crowding my vision, until they swallowed all else.

Limpness soaked my limbs, paralyzing me as my eyes rolled back into my head. Once more I was human, tearing through the layers of cloud as I fell. A wet smack split the air as I struck against the water’s surface. The unforgiving depths of the ocean took in my body, enveloping me with its inky blackness and relentless chill. I could do nothing as the water bubbled into my lungs and silenced the rapid beating of my heart. 

Later, when I awoke, I dragged myself from the shore in which I had washed up, leaving my body behind. Light pierced through me; my shadow had remained with my corporeal form. I lingered on the sand, merely a spirit, longing for the kiss of sunshine to grace my skin once more.