The Homes Of Birds (Nature Contest Winner)

I'm very excited to present the winner of our Nature Flash Fiction Contest, from regular contributor Brook Bhagat. Someone might look at the strange format and say it's more of a poem than a short story, but my favorite poems are the ones that tell a story as well. Plus I liked it so this is the one I'm choosing. Congratulations Brook! And thanks to everyone who participated. A lot of great stories.

I understand the funeral I have the address the dress the time

it begins with smiling cameras and ends with paper tablecloths, cold cuts and deviled eggs downstairs

even worse is the sunshine, all those empty minutes left

I would have lost it

if not

For the hike, still in our black together,you and Ben, the boy,me and my sister arm in armdown the easy path atGarden of the Gods,

lighter than before, noticing the homesof birds in the rocks and rememberingwe are just a moment, fragmentsof a mystery that flies and sings.

From Guest Contributor Brook Bhagat

Brook’s poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and humor have appeared in Monkeybicycle, Empty Mirror Magazine, Harbinger Asylum, Little India, Rat's Ass Review, Lotus-Eater Magazine, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and other journals and anthologies. She and her husband Gaurav created Blue Planet Journal, which she edits and writes for. She holds an MFA from Lindenwood University, teaches creative writing at a community college, and is writing a novel. Her poetry collection, Only Flying, is due out Nov. 16, 2021 from Unsolicited Press. See more at brook-bhagat.com or reach her on Twitter at @BrookBhagat.

Stay tuned for an announcement soon about our next contest!

The Century Plant

NATURE SUBMISSION:

People lined up around the block, masks on, cameras and children in hand. The news spread fast, as these things do in 2020, via Facebook and Instagram. Some thought it might be a hoax, but any excuse to leave the house was welcome.

The woman who planted the Agave was just ten years old when she and her dad had picked placed the little cactus in their front yard. She'd decided to hold onto the house after her parents moved to Florida hoping to see it flower someday. Now, despite the crowds and reporters, the long wait had been worth it.

From Guest Contributor Alice Ryder

The Art Of Doing Nothing

NATURE SUBMISSION:

There are twelve rules of enlightenment. They cover elements of Buddhist philosophy such as proper meditation, simplicity, and a constant reflection on necessity.

It's this last part that bothers Alicia most. The more she reflects on what's truly necessary, the more she realizes that her life has lost all sense of meaning. It's enough to make her want to go live in the woods someplace like a hermit and just contemplate nature every day.

Nature wants nothing to do with Alicia's existential crisis. It doesn't care that it's meaningless. It just wants to start recomposting her as soon as possible.

From Guest Contributor Laura Stacks

Dust To Dust

NATURE SUBMISSION:

The dust swirls through the late evening sun, catching the light just so. Growing up, people used to say the dust was your dead skin. A few of my more morbid friends even said it was the skin of dead people. Dust to dust after all.

I wonder if that's true. The poet in me wants to believe it is, that we're surrounded by our ancestors at all times, that their spirits live for eternity on the winds.

The claims adjuster in me turns back to my computer screen. Perhaps if I concentrated a bit more I'd be home already.

From Guest Contributor Angie Thrush

Gordon Perkins, Analyst

NATURE SUBMISSION:

Gordon drummed his pen listlessly as he stared out the window. From his office on the 24th floor, it was possible to see a sliver of ocean, but only when pressed against the glass. Here at his desk, all that was visible was the building across the street, a grey brick affair more depressing than his cubicle.

The plant on Gordon's desk was equally as depressed, drooping over the edge of the pot, three detached brown leaves huddled in the corner. They both needed the same cure. Sunlight and soil.

Instead, Gordon returned to the spreadsheet open on his desktop.

From Guest Contributor Stanley Dutt

Crimes And Misdemeanors

Nature Submission:

Mike claimed to feel bad about the slugs, but what options did he have? If they insisted on eating his spinach plants, it was only right that he eradicate the menace. The more humane methods hadn't worked, so beer traps it was.

Well, maybe methods is an exaggeration. He really just tried one option, sprinkling egg shells around the roots. And he'd probably been a little careless about setting a perimeter, making it easy for the slugs to avoid them on their path to leafy sustenance.

But any accusations that Mike enjoyed torturing the slugs is insulting and completely unfounded.

From Guest Contributor Ally Petersen

Love You Till The End

NATURE SUBMISSION:

I’d never seen a more glorious sunset, even after a tornado. Half the sky was a golden yellow and the clouds above the sun were skeins of vermilion fire. Even the orange flames on the horizon dulled in comparison. Dust in the air; much of it probably radioactive.

We had come out of the root cellar, its door fortunately hidden by an overgrown raspberry patch, where we’d hidden from marauding mobs that had fled the cities, and hidden again when the pursuing troops began shelling. Our house and outbuildings were charred skeletons, the animals gone. We were still holding hands.

From Guest Contributor F. J. Bergmann

Crow And Bear

NATURE SUBMISSION:

Bear walked through the woods, surveying the scenes of spring. He found it beautiful, and it all belonged to him. Every creature ran at the sight of him, leaving him to meander in peace.

So it was with great surprise that he looked up and saw Crow staring down at him.

"Fly away Crow, or I shall eat you."

"You don't scare me Bear."

"You'll be scared when you're inside my belly."

Crow laughed. Every spring was the same. Bear woke from his slumber and threatened her. He was too stupid to remember the forest belonged to Crow, not Bear.

From Guest Contributor Debbie Cox

An Appreciation Of Nature

NATURE SUBMISSION:

David led the group to the African Savanna. He'd been here many times and knew the habits of the big cats, in particular the lions, which were what everyone wanted to see. "They mostly just lay around in the sun, resting. But watching them feed is a transformative experience."

No one seemed impressed. Even the children were more interested in their phones than looking at the animals. It was a sad commentary on the state of the world.

"Acting this way can get you killed in the wild," he warned.

"Good thing we're at the zoo then," one boy retorted.

From Guest Contributor Leonard Panse

Mother Nature Always Wins

NATURE SUBMISSION:

When you push the envelope, sometimes the envelope pushes back.

The architects and the engineers were certain that their calculations were correct. The bridge would save time and effort when driving across the sound. The financing was in place after years of wrangling. The bridge was inaugurated with great fanfare.

The Williwaw was the locals’ name for the wind that came from the north. High winds were not unusual, and the designers of the bridge had accounted for them. Mother Nature didn’t know the words “vortex shedding” or “aeroelastic flutter.” But she didn’t need words, she just needed the wind.

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius