Twist. Turn. Dip. Sweep. All at once, the winds around the ship changed, shifting from a violent storm to a soft breeze. The black plumage of his Tengu Fan remained stock straight, even with the skilled hand moving it with jarring grace to manipulate the winds around them. They crew had all seen the man at work at least once before, but always it was a sight of awe. Not many on the high seas could willingly sail through a tempest and come out of it completely unscathed.
After the tribulation had passed, and the skies parted above into clear...
The bird landed. A thunder clapped. A dog barked and the bird opened a pocket on its vest.
Peering through a telescope, the yellow bird surveyed 360 degrees of the town square.
All along the square doors slammed and windows shuttered.
All but the doors of the saloon, which are more like shutters, really. Do saloons even have doors?
The bird shook its feathers. Focus.
From beneath the saloon shutters rolled a woman in pantaloons and suspenders and a blousy black turtleneck. She held in her hands two baskets, their covers carefully latched.
Kneeling in the street Liza double and...
My head is pounding, three days of this. The wind has been blowing. I look out my office window and it is either the eye of the storm with it's fits and starts or we're near the end of it. The trees are bending, but there are little black leaves, birds. They're sitting swaying in the tree, calm. When they fly off, they all fly off. Its like watching a school of fish. One makes a subtle turn that sets off a wave and undulation.
Its an eerie view, because suddenly I thought of those childhood explorations in the woods...