Friction of The Wind

It’s the end of the Autumn, and I know that it would never change anything.

At least for me, it does.

***

When the leaves turned to red like burning fire, it's a sign of changes. God had made us a life mission, and it sets after the autumn.

We should leave soon. Migration birds seek changes to survive.

As my peers and fellow were scurrying around the Tree Hollow. I could see their excitement in the next migration. Besides, mom told me that they just caught something fresh. That's enough to store all along with our migration.

I was not surprised to saw another dead body besides the foyer this morning. They just found a dead cricket under the conifers, the tree hollow is now filled with the tasty smell of hemolymph. As my parents busying packing it into pieces this last meal. We had the last dinner before moving out this night.

None of them were at the foyer. This means that I need to move to the main hall.

I climbed the vertical lines on the tree bark with my claws. The feels that grounded with gripping force makes me calm. I am more confident when I was able to act with static friction.

Charging my thigh with some force, then I jumped higher. Performing another plyometric that fulfilled my satisfaction.

Great, three jumps to reach the hall this time.

“Nocto, why are you still keep crawling. We are birds, not bugs!”

Just stepping into the hall, I encounter my big brother with his critique. My habit was always an eyesore to him.

“I always move like this. “ I explained. “Since this is my house and I had the freedom to move all the way I like.”

"Yes you could, but no longer when the winter comes. I always explained how tough the migration is, it is no child play. You are fucked off if you did not get used to flying."

He started boasting about the history of him since that last migration. His story was always the same, how he survived from the bad storm during the fly. And the honor he escapes from the hunter that targeting him from the ground.

This is the second time my big brother join the migration. From his expression, I know that he was filled with expectancy.

 “Okay, then.” I brush him off with a sign.

Always the opposite from my siblings. My strength in my wings was just an average level. Sorry to said that my flying test was just a flyover after apple-polishing to my flying coach. My confidence often gets a discount when my peers stereotype me as ‘inactive’.

My parents just finished packed the meal. I heard their steps into the hall.

Correcting my posture, keep flapping my wings as everyone did. I made an illusion to let them assumed that I entered here finishing a short flying route.

 “Nocto, seems that you haven't prepared for the migration?" Mom observed me and conclude.

We need to be fuelled up before the winter comes, I am sure that my brother did that. There are theories that the body tends to store fat for fuel. In some cases, a well-built physique will turn fat into muscle instead of fat. His visible muscle under the feather tells that he even trained for the migration.

I looked at the rest of the family members, they were all appeared bulkier than before. It is necessary because we spend tons of energy during the migration.

She was right. My current physique just explained it all. Underfed makes my feather seems shrinking a bit. They not seeing me preparing for the flying for a week.

I was underprepared, mentally and physically.

Seems that mom still not aware of my decision.

It's hard to tell. But I can't escape it anymore. I found my sound difficult. "Um..actually. I am not going to join the migration.”

I confessed without contact with my big brother’s bossy eyes. Sometimes I think that he took over mom and dad's place by blaming my fault. He would question me without listening to my explanation. At least my parent does.

“Are you serious about that?" Mom would make sure that I am not joking. After saw I nodded my head then, she continued questioned. "But why?"

“I just don’t want to die at the place that I don’t know at all.  At least here, I dead at where I belong."

This is my reason, partially.

There was a famous say in our bird's word ‘Avoid flying lead to the dead; while flying makes you facing the death.”

No denying that there are thousands of obstacles awaiting us during the migration. They said that half of our species death in bad weather, a quarter of us death under humans hand.

I noticed the rules, only the strongest will survive. 

“Boy.” Dad interrupted the conversation. He gave me a serious and dignified look. "You should grow up. Excuses don't work for nature. It just does what it should."

Something internal blasting from my throat. This sentence was a trigger. And I came out of something deeper from my thought.

“So that’s the reason Bobber ended up...” I murmured, tried my best not to explode.

“What?”

 “That cocoon that found at the basement level…I saw you dismembered his dead body!”

“So what? We eat thousands of bugs and worms throughout the year.” Brother mocking at my words as I was an idiot.

“But he is my best friend!”

Bobber, the cocoon. My best friend.

I rarely join my siblings flying here and there as they do. They had friends as a hulk or hummingbird, even the flying squirrels that scurrying around the treetop. For me, I just have a cocoon friend that accompanies me since my childhood.

“We don't make friends with food, don't we?” My big brother mocked, I could saw his beak started puffing, “Tsh-tsh-tsh…no food-loving relation here. I think Papa had warned you before.”

I know Bobber for months. I had indeed told them I had an insect friend. As result, my dad used to warned me with the same sentences. “Bugs is food for us, not friends. Nature has its rules and so just do what it should."

So I dig a basement for Bobber, and he is safe for the following months. We still friend as usual. None of us care about food and hunting. He even teaches me how to climb the tree. Jumping from any level of the trunk.

I will forever remember, that time when I saw he was in pieces. His skin was outstretched due to the dragging force of our beak. He ended up on the tree branches and even without a complete corpse.

All of this happened within a week.

I never experience that kind of irritation when we were hunting the bugs. Until I saw my friend becoming the food, it was different. It causes nausea for me in the following days that I had difficulty eating.

“Yes I had. “ Dad signed. He looks at me as I was troublesome enough to make him scowl. “I’ll deal with this later. Move away from it, the migration team would come soon.”

“Your dad was right, Nocto.“ Mom tried to makes her sound gentle, not to makes me feel upset. “The meal was ready. This bug smells sweet, I’m sure you loved it before the departure.” 

“Leave the bug to you. “ I replied. “I am not joining the migration.”

I speak in a serious mood. It’s enough to suffocate in their ignorance, and now I could feel the grief for my friend. I would blame myself if I join the migration and pretended that nothing happens.

“How could you talk to your mother like that?"

 “Dad, let him alone! He just a black sheep. ” My big brother always act sarcastically.

Not even an apologies for my friend, I totally frowned.

I looked at my family members as they were the murderer. I felt sorry for Bobber. No one in this family cares about him at all.

And I felt disgrace as a relative of them.

I heard dad scolding behind as I lead to the entrance. Flapping my wings, they were heavy as usual. But this time I should use them, to quickly escape from here.

‘Flap.’

I turn my indignation into the momentum, the impulsive force carries me into the air. I found myself gliding within the woods.

That moment I feel free.

Honestly, I was once in excitement when I heard about the migration.

Sometimes suffered in flying, but there is time that I tried to get used to it. Only Bobber knows. I shared my excitement about the migration with him. It was alluring for him.

As a cocoon, Bobber never tried flying. But he knows that he would be flying here and there when he gets the chances to be fully grown.

But he’s gone.

***

Opposite of me, a flock of migrating birds spiraling the treetop. They have the same feather as me, wings were in tint grey as me. But I wondered why they could enjoy flying so much.

Responded with Dad’s prediction, a loud call from them was released. It's the countdown signal from the head of the migration bird.

Soon, more and more migration birds joined them. I am sure that my family is with them. We should move in a flock, there are no excuses for us if we missed.

The autumn means for change for them, but not for me.

My eyes tracing they leave. A sudden regret raised. Even their life goes on even without me, I should at least say a goodbye.

Now I chickened out.

There is no time for cursing myself for being such a coward, I flapped my wings again. I dive in the air, hoping to chase the flock. Soon fatigue creeps up my wings.

Never tried gliding for such a long time. I had a bad feeling that would not last long.

The flock soon turns into a spot under the moonlight. I succumb to it, allowing the faintness attacks me. Gravity had found its chances. It acts on me, pulling me onto the ground. This time, surely I would end up in the winter.

I fall and fall.

 ***

Then I felt myself landed on something huge, icy. It like a shield that floating in the air. Carrying me along the horizon.

“Ouch! Who’s there?”

I couldn’t see anything from my perspective. But I had a glimpse of that glossy surface, reflecting the ray from the moon. Is it a beetle?

"Hang on, Buddy. One mile to the nearest tree." Someone under the shield speaks.

“Bobber?” I recognize that voice.

“Bingo！”

"Y-You didn't die?"

"Yea, I thought that I was going to die at that time." He explained. “Later I figure out... Every one of us ‘dead’ once. The one that you saw might be the larvae.”

“I thought that you were killed by my family...I being harsh to them just now.” I dropped my voice.

Feeling guilty of accusing my family, although they never know about the larva had a second life. But the fact was true, I just incriminate them by killing my best friend.

 “So I leave then and missed the flight... that’s why you saw me falling from the sky.” I continued.

I never expected to get a single piece of advice from Bobber. This is all my fault. However, he replied.

"You know, a beetle needs to learn how to fly before been beaten up. That's the reason I never showed up within this week.” He said bitterly. Obviously he had a hard time learning to fly.

“Wow, seems that you had mastered it well.”

I praised him from heart, admiring his determination.

“I’m happy to hear that. See how lucky are you as this is my first successful flight.” Then he concludes his thought." What I wanted to say is, you should back to them, then.”

Even Blumpy undergoes the change, why couldn't I?

 “So, if I was that lucky..” I raised my feathers straight, feeling the friction of the wind hitting my every inch of them. ”Perhaps make Amazonia the next station?”

“Sure.” His answer was determined.

“Thank buddy.”

Then I free myself into the wind.

It’s the end of the autumn. And the winter is for me.