The afternoon light fell out of the clouds and lay down upon the mountains like a mood.
The rivers were not happy because the light was bright and warm. They thought it might make life difficult for their trout because, if it got any warmer, it would deprive them of oxygen. They complained to the mountains.
So the mountains sent up a column of air. Hawks drifted high above in its warm currents.
The sun noticed them and withdrew behind a cloud to consider the matter. “Should hawks be this high?” it asked itself. “They should be hunting down below.”
While the sun considered these matters, the light on the mountains miraculously vanished. The valleys let out a sigh of relief, sending shadows over the tree sided slopes.
Meanwhile, among the rivers hidden deep in the valleys, a dipper bird entered a stream and found it quite cool.
Copyright 2013 George Lowell Tollefson