Lucky Packet

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I decided that for today I would put some pictures into a hat, close my eyes and write about the first one I pulled out. The challenge is to begin from scratch and continue through a beginning, middle and end in as little time as possible. Absolutely no prep work is tolerated.

So I put my hand in the hat and pulled out the picture above. It is a beauty. And what a story it can tell.

So here goes:

The storm is over. The blue patches began to appear amidst the solid dark gray ceiling of low water saturated cloud. Not all the moisture had been dropped over the fields. There was plenty more in store but for now the parched earth was nourished and plants, trees and animal life was sustained and replete. For a while anyway. The Indian summer continued and these were the first rains in over two months.

This bit of the planet was happier. Except for Bellamy in the wooden shack built on stilts next to the silo. He would never be happy for he was born angry. As a baby he scowled at the world of giants. He scowled at every human. And scowled at the family pets. Except he did not scowl at the family dog. A border collie named Bryn i Mar.

Bryn i Mar was Bellamy’s only friend. He asked only to go for walks, to herd sheep, fetch sticks and thrown balls and to sleep at the foot of Bellamy’s bed. Bryn i Mar was also the only living thing that caused Bellamy to smile and his face to lighten up in pure happiness.

Bellamy’s mother noted this and told he husband when he came in from the fields one night. He farmed corn and sheep.

The notion that his son and heir only smiled when Bryn i Mar was around set off a pleasant grin on the farmer’s face. Then he looked at his wife and sighed a huge sigh of relief. For now he knew that Bellamy would eventually find more cause to feel blessed to be alive.

Especially on a day like today when the rains had finished and you could smell the dry dust in the air as the clouds skimmed past overhead. The scene whilst dark and foreboding held glimpses of hope for the future. The blue chinks in the dark cloud spread and the sun’s rays streamed through the thinning cloud.

This was a picture of hope for the future. Of life ongoing and the earth being nurtured and good things to happen.

That picture returned on a regular basis as Bellamy grew older. And after his father and mother and Bryn i Mar were gone, he sought a wife. He found one. She was called Sadie. And Sadie had hair the colour of copper that would glint in the sun and especially in the autumnal sun, the colour would cause Bellamy’s love for her to swell in his chest until he thought it would burst.

Sadie was killed in a road accident on the way to town to collect supplies. Bellamy was not with her. He waited at home all night for her to return. The next morning he walked to town to search for her. But he did not reach town. He came across the car wreck and found his dead Sadie.

He sat for hours stroking her copper coloured hair and the tears and sobs never abated until the moon was high in the night sky. Only then did he get up, walk home and call the police.

After a long time Bellamy bought a dog. It was Border collie. He called it Packet. And Packet loved him unconditionally and only asked to go for walks, herd the sheep, sleep at the foot of Bellamy’s bed and fetch balls and sticks.

Bellamy’s scowls returned and try as he might, Packet could not make Bellamy smile. Until the rains came and the vista after a particularly heavy rainfall replicated one Bellamy recalled from many seasons before. The smell, the light, the blue patches, the dark clouds, the torrents of water and he looked at the dog and smiled and knew that here again was reason for hope.

Packet had made the man who dropped sticks and balls smile again.

The End.

Lucky Packet