“He should be here soon,” Ernest’s inert body belied the excitement in his eyes.
“It might not be today,” Gertrude noted. She knew he had to hold on to hope, but she could not bear to see him wade across another disappointment.
There have been far too many of late. And more coming.
“Oh, it will,” Ernest insisted.
Gertrude nodded. When he got something firmly into his head, there was little use in trying to dissuade him. Nor much to gain from it, really.
She wheeled him to a sunny spot out of the wind, arranged the blanket over his lap, and brought herself a stool. The both of them could use fresh air as well as what vitamin D they’d manage making.
They sat. She dozed off.
His cry woke her. Joy. Not pain.
“He’s here!”
Merlin, he’d called him. The osprey rested twice-yearly, mid-migration, on their chimney stack.
For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge
Na'ama Yehuda 
Oh, that is wonderful. Kept me in suspense until the last-minute reveal. LO
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🙂 I’m so glad you liked it! (not sure it is an Osprey in the photo … but the wings did not look like a stork’s – so I took creative liberties …) 😉
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It was a Lesser Black Backed Gull… the wily birds repurpose the neighbourhood roofs and ledges for nesting sites.
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Ah! Thank you! I wondered it if was a gull but for some reason the wingspan looked to be too wide for it. Wily is a pretty good description of gulls! Wrote about one in my book “Emilia” … 🙂
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That was wonderful, Na’ama! You had me worried for a bit there… such a joyous ending.
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Yay! I’m so glad! Here’s to joy!!! 🙂
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🙂
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