Dancing in the sun

The sun’s rays shone down on the veranda bathing every inch in its warmth, there was no shadow only light. The grass of the garden was caught up in the brilliance of the sun, the mornings dew gave the effect of millions of diamonds shinning back at me. The light added an extra sense of clarity to everything around me. The spiders web on the cross beams seemed now an intricate pattern that had taken years to create and existed only for my passing pleasure. I sat back in my arm chair feeling its padding mould to my familiar shape. In the light of the sun everything was golden.

I watched her dancing on the grass, the dewy diamonds shimmering and shaking with her every graceful foot steps, she danced a dance of joy each step accompanied by a grin or a laugh as she span, twirled and jumped across the lawn. Her plain white dress flowed around her like smoke never quite following her but giving an impression of where she had been. Her golden hair trailed behind her and in the light it looked like gold. Her bare feet we wet and covered in grass but all of this was trivial to her. She was happy to dance in the wet grass, happy just being in the sun.

I watched as she cavorted around. Making sure that I was looking when she did a graceful leap or spin. I smiled back, watching her child like joy with glimmering eyes as I watched her enjoy one of life’s simplest pleasures.

‘You do know she is an idiot?’ The raven croaked in its strangely matriarchal voice. It ruffled its feathers and looked down at me from its perch on the back of my chair.

I’m aware of the fact that she is not as mentally capable as you or I Beatrice, however she makes up for it in other areas. For example when was the last time you danced? or took simple pleasure in the sun?’ I retorted.

The Beatrice looked down at me with a glare only birds can give and clacked her beak before replying.

‘It is all well and good dancing in the wet grass and lounging in the sun like some sort of vagabond Ichabod but these matters are trivial to the matters of the mind. I can think of things that she has no comprehension of, things that if she had a glimmering of understanding of would cause her happy world to fall apart. We both have knowledge of things whose beauty far supposes trivial day in the sun. How can you argue that she!’ and at that she gestured with a wing ‘ can know more than us, we fine academics! We the children of Archimedes, who have supped at that delight full cup of knowledge, marvelled at the creation of the universe and have found the answer to many of life’s great problems. Ichabod we have knowledge that others can only dream of.’ She finished her speech with an indigent ruffling of her feathers, as if she was offended by the idea that Ralla’s simple physical pleasure was a nothing a mere speck compared to pure knowledge.

I leaned forward, elbows on knees, pondering her speech. The bird had a point; I had, at my disposal, knowledge that would shake the core of any normal man let alone Ralla’s simple view on the world. She viewed each day a child ever curious ever wondering. I would find her crouched over in a corner of the house watching a butterfly as if it were the only thing the world utterly enthralled by its grace and beauty oblivious to all around her. Other times she would hum songs that had never existed purely for the joy of hearing a tune. Other times she would fall into fits of laughter till tear rolled down her cheeks and she clutched her sides in pain. But she could never understand my work, I had tried on many occasions to explain what it was that I did but she just looked at me blankly her green eyes tinged with a vague fear of what I talk. She would often break these attempts to impart knowledge by suddenly giggling or pulling faces till I relented and let her play with the dogs in the garden.

In comparison Beatrice was all knowledge never once had we laughed at one of the dogs chasing its own tail, we had never sat and watched the sun set. With her it was always questioning never ceasing in the desire to find out more to find the answer to questions that man should never ask. She was determined to know though, she and I would spend many a long night in the library pouring over books far older that either of us and over texts that had taken people a life time to fathom. With her we were pushing the boundaries of comprehension to its limits.

The sun still beat down Ralla was looking at me now her dance of joy stopped, she had seen the look on my face. The look she knew was that of concentration. I looked in to her face, it was torn between worry and joy, her smooth features trying to express something that her mind could not understand. A slow smile crept across her face like water down a river and it was this smile that turned me.

I stood up from my sun drenched chair, stretching after so long in one place. I slipped of my shoes removed the socks that she had knitted for me, one green the other blue, and rolled up my trousers.

‘You are going to dance in the sun then?’ Remarked Beatrice, as I made for the steps ‘Im going to read find me when you are finished with the idiot’. She made to fly off, flapping her wings experimentally.

‘How are you going to read when you need me to turn the pages?’ I asked her and was rewarded with a glower as she retuned to her place.

I stepped of the veranda and into the sun proper and realised that I had only been seeing part of its beauty. It hit me like a wave. I smiled to her as she took my hand and we danced in the sun light.