♫ 18/320:
Of course! Why did
we not think of it on our own? What was an American Goldfinch doing
amongst the Northeastern realms of our new estate? There exist many
forms of finches and even Goldfinches in the world, but specifically
an American Goldfinch crossing the Atlantic ocean, on its own, all
the way to Svalbard? Uncanny.
There are few birds which could ever fly such a distance and the only one capable of such, that I was aware of–the Arctic Tern–was not the glimmering, gale-glider prancing about before us. It was clear that we were most certainly and undeniably in the presence of an American Goldfinch. It was obvious to me that it was a male American Goldfinch as the gold-yellow coat of feathers it wore was the distinctive brilliance adorned most exclusively by males of their species. A bold, saturated color which was less camouflaged than the earthier tones of the female American Goldfinches who could often hide like angels in clouds amidst the demure tones of the North American woods.
“Mr. Goldfinch,” I said. “I know just the thing to rekindle your memories. A friendly discussion, beside a warm fireplace within the estate mansion, and a grand tour of one of our opulent libraries, full of sights and sounds to catalog your memories into a cohesive framework. Then we can figure out just where in America this 'there,' is that you believe you should be.”
♫19/320:
The Goldfinch looked up and then away, as if reflecting. “A library you say? Within your own living quarters?”
“Yes, Mr. Goldfinch, such is the case.” one of my associates responded.
Mr. Goldfinch flapped his efficient, bright yellow wings in a swift flutter of hopeful excitement. The sunlight, squeezing in through the conservative opening in the caves natural roof, seemed to dance on cue throughout a myriad of reflections traveling through the diamond filled cavern. The caribou amongst us–who previously had been quite content and complacent while munching away on healthy forages of nutrient rich wheat grasses abundant in the glimmering cavern–broke from their grazing circle and formed a gateway of sorts. They stood left and right of the gently winding paths which led from the immense diamond table at the center of the cave, through the maze of curving, diamond flanked pathways and finally towards the exit of the cavern. The caribou raised their heads proudly, and individually. Each of them nodded their antlered heads as we passed by them, one-by-one, en route to the mouth of the cavern. We were treated as if a royal entourage by the saluting caribou as we exited the cavern and began our progression back to the estate mansion, with our new found friend–the American Goldfinch.
