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Image Story #1 ~ Wings and Prairie Dogs

Image Story #1 ~ Wings and Prairie Dogs

I purposefully didn’t look into the root of what inspired this photograph at the Silent Storyteller. It is just too perfect to make it up. So it was voted in as the first visual impromptu for Niya’s Place. ; )

What I believe about the woman with the beautiful wings…

…she like many birds in the sky who fly south for the winter got a little distracted. Maybe it was a prairie dog. They are the kama sutra giants of the underground with Johnnie Depp charisma, after all. This is only something birds know and shape-shifting-animals… like mermaids. It’s not something that our hunter and gatherer species condones.

So there she is. Is she hoping her bird family in the sky will join her? Or maybe she’s waving goodbye to them…at peace with her decision—proportional to accepting a mate or new home of any kind into our lives. I like to think of her at peace. She will be joining a species of rodents with communication skills that are as sensitive as aliens and even more evolved that SIRI. I think she has already begun to adopt the prairie dog language and is communicating to her previous life. They are wishing her well in her new life.

Even National Geo thinks highly of prairie dogs – their charisma, skill and language.

She has good taste in my opinion.



  • Chris on Feb 28, 2012 Reply

    Being chilli this fall evening the goddess of transformation wore a long wool dress. She gets so carried away by the shivers that run up the back of her legs and all the way up her spine she just can’t concentrate sometimes on the work at hand. For she is the one goddess called on when the people of the mental world need to shift to play time. For some people just a set of wings is all it takes but for some a full consume with head-dress and pumps (preferably hand made) is what’s required to drag oneself from the hammered lead world of mental precision off and into the land of carnivals and costume parties.

    On this evening it was all she could do to take each pair down off the line where they had been drying from a fresh coat of sparkle paint then bless them off to their new owners. In the midst of what looked like a flock of eagles taking off, her silhouetted body was a twisting flurry of arms flailing sending fresh wings to all corners of the continuum. To her delight a cold blast of air did waft up between her legs jerking her to spin around like an ecstatic dust devil, a moment of repose from a focus that had consumed her.

    As the sun faded and so the connection to her calling, she gazed quietly at the last set of wings hanging on the line, she hesitated almost drifting off and there it was, the one last request in her day. She gently took the wings down, pressed them to her lips and after a long sensual kiss lifted them over her head as they flew off and disappeared onto the overcast sky.

    Turning to the low earthen hut off in the distance her mind wandered now to the chest of her lover that was most likely warming her side of their bed with his massive male body.

    • nwadmin on Feb 28, 2012 Reply

      Wow Chris! Fantastic~

  • nwadmin on Feb 24, 2012 Reply

    YAY…so glad you jumped in. I LOVE your prose, so I’m happy you want to play.
    Your images fly right out at me (pun intended) … the flutter and call of their departure…so kinesthetic.
    I love the image of the tethered wings trembling on the line…freed by desire. Playing with dropping anchored… to see how it plays out for ya.
    More coming in a few days. Had to get the subscription list working. Now it is.

  • Verna Wilder on Feb 24, 2012 Reply

    The day the Prairie Dogs took flight, Emmaline was taking dry wings off the line in preparation to follow the wind, and she needed every spare pair, what with the sky being so big and the horizon so far. She heard the flutter and call of their departure, she heard Goodbye! Goodbye! fading in the swoop of their passage, and before she could lift her hand in farewell, they were beyond hearing. Goodbye! she whispered to the fields and trees. Goodbye! she whispered to each pair of tethered wings trembling on the line, anchored feather to line, freed by desire.

    • Verna Wilder on Feb 24, 2012 Reply

      Hmmm. Last line needs work.
      How about deleting “trembling on the line.”
      Yep, that’s better.
      Niya! This is so fun! Let’s do more!

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