If I were a fashion designer, I’d model my creation on the Blue Jay.
I’d design a gown made entirely of silk. The front would be palest grey, with a snow-white collar set off by an obsidian necklace. The cowl and short cape would be of periwinkle blue.
The glory of the gown is its sleeves, with many blue panels bordered black like the panes of a stained-glass window.
From the back, a long train of blue is trimmed with narrow black bands. When it moves, it reveals glimpses of a white lining.
My dress is self repairing, like a Blue Jay’s plumage. When a jay’s feathers become worn, they drop off, by ones or twos. New, fresh ones grow in to take their places. It happens so gradually that the bird always has enough feathers.
If a Blue Jay were to perch on your hand, you would be surprised how light it is. The feathers next to the body are fluffy, and the stiff flight feathers are hollow. All its feathers together weigh perhaps a quarter of an ounce, but they keep the Blue Jay warm in winter.
I hope my mythical gown will be equally light, warm, and efficient. And of course washable.
A Blue Jay flies to the edge of my birdbath and lands. The bird pauses above the trembling mirror before taking a drink.
Is she admiring her dress?
Pushing aside my morning stack of To-Dos,
I click on Mr. Blue Jay at the Fountain and ask:
“WHAT could possibly be More Important than this
Pause to Contemplate how it is that Mother Nature
Has created so much beauty? And Diane-the-Beholder who
sees it, ponders it, writes about it so lovingly--noticing each amazing detail of his Robe! Ahhhhh, all the synapses of my brain release and relax….let go of the Lists…to drink in
such Bounty! Mother Nature strikes again!!!
you know... i think when you go to heaven, this WILL be your raiment! Thank you for this totally delightful uplift today. xoxo