A Spring tale of rebirth for J.A.Mes Press Rebirth Anthology. All proceeds will go to a UK Stroke Charity.
Title: Spring Symphony
Author: Lisa Shambrook
Spring Symphony © Lisa Shambrook
Spring shivered in delight as Jack’s intoxicating cloud of glitter eddied about her. She stared in awe at his ethereal design, an ice tattoo, shimmering like frozen lace across her scales. “Stay a little longer…” she begged, her work forgotten as she trembled beneath the newly painted webs of frost and feathers of rime that now patterned her violet wings. The cold wind whispered in her ear, but she snubbed the wind’s wise words, snorted and called after the playful pixie instead, “Wait! Wait for me!”
Jack grinned and ran his fingers through his silver hair, eyeing the dragon with amusement. He hopped up onto her back, over her spines and nestled between her vast wings. She launched into the air leaving a sparkling trail in her wake. She rose above shimmering trees, above the deep evergreens and ascended into fluffy clouds. She climbed until the air sent thrilling chills across her hide and her eyes shone as adrenalin pumped. Jack whooped and wrapped his arms around her neck and frost danced across her rainbow scales. For the first time in a long time, Spring felt more invigorated than ever before.
Behind her, and pushing up over the horizon, the April sun threw tentative rays to remind Spring of her responsibilities. Oblivious of the attempt to attract her, Spring swooped with abandon, spilling tiny flakes of glitter from her decorated wings. She sailed recklessly across the countryside, while Jack’s hands moved like a conductor casting spirals and flurries of ice, of stars and iridescent frost.
Usually Spring tiptoed in, slowly, earnestly, releasing the earth from Winter’s grip, but this year she wanted to fly, to soar, to make an impression! Ice laced the ground, glistening in the early morning sunshine, and the dragon giggled, “This is way more fun than crawling in with a yawn!” she cried. Jack sent her a wide grin and pitched a handful of snowflakes. She watched the flurry fall to the ground and spiralled after them.
The church clock below struck six as Spring glided down landing softly on the village green. Frost tickled her toes and dew clung to the grass and Jack slipped off her back. The dew froze as he skipped through it and Spring, entranced and flushed, followed as he wandered through the village. His fingers danced across windows creating a fretwork of sugared beauty, and his breath frosted the huge stained glass chapel windows glinting in the sun. He strung a chain of clear crystal jewels through the trees and crusted tiny shoots and buds in silver and white.
Snowdrops shivered and tears rested upon purple crocuses as they tried to push through the sparkling mantle. Grape hyacinths clustered tightly, nodding sadly, daffodils struggled and bluebells glistened like amethyst, but Spring was having far too much fun to listen to their whimpers of distress.
Spring danced on the frosty green until waking lights flickered on inside houses, then she lifted Jack high up into the azure sky. She tarried as people left their homes, winding scarves around their necks and pulling on hats and gloves. Murmurs of discontent wafted up into the clouds and feet crunched on the ground as people began their days.
Spring closed her ears to the gusting wind and ignored the warmth of the sun as it danced across her scales, but she couldn’t ignore Winter’s claim to her errant child.
A much subdued Jack clung to Spring’s neck as a sudden chill enveloped them and an out-of-season blizzard whirled about them high in the sky. Winter shook her gossamer wings and Spring struggled to stay in flight, but Winter guided her safely down.
Jack’s aggrieved lip curled as he slithered off her back and tried to slink away, but Winter retrieved her mischievous imp. “It’s time to go,” she chided.
Spring cast her eyes to the ground and the unseasonal blanket of white.
Winter nuzzled her sister’s nose. “Listen…just listen, bow your head and listen.”
Spring bent her neck and listened, she nodded. Winter turned Spring’s tear into the season’s last snowflake and smiled. She launched back into the air, leaving the violet dragon standing alone in the meadow.
Clarity flooded, swelling her heart, and the dragon hurriedly shook off her frosty embellishment. She lowered to the grass and rested her head among the green blades. Sorrow overwhelmed her and frost melted as her breath danced across the grass. A pink-tipped daisy warily unfurled its petals and shivered beneath Spring’s warmth. The daisy trembled and opened, exposed and vulnerable, staring up at the dragon. Tears welled behind Spring’s gentle eyes and she tenderly released her breath, warming the tiny daisy. The flower burgeoned and as its neighbours emerged Spring knew Winter was finally gone.
With sparkling eyes she leaped up into the air and fire rumbled in her belly. Warm currents cloaked her and the melting ice dripped tears of relief. The balmy breeze revived the frozen landscape, and as Spring finally wafted in, on Winter’s wings, carpets of bluebells chimed, and daffodils burst forth trumpeting their song heralding Spring’s new symphony.
Read Autumn’s and Winter’s tales: Autumn Flame and Winter Hope.