Through my Eyes: In the company of Hope...

A couple of days ago, as I was excitedly running away from my final class for this year, my mind was suddenly distracted by a most beautiful, curious sight. It's already October, and summer has been in the Southern Hemisphere for a couple of weeks by now, so to see bare tree amoungst various other green ones can only mean one thing: It has not survived the winters cold, and died. But this morning, after passing the same grey-brown tree for the 250th time this year...I noticed something a little different. And its serenity and happiness made stop...and look:

A Tree stood bare and colourless beneath the open sky. Summer had not touched its skeletal form.
But on its shoulders, sat a sure sign of Hope: a small, yellow Weaver, with sunshine in its feathers and a song in its voice.

Its plumage puffed, soft against the knobbly limbs of the tree... Its colour as bright and happy, as if a drop of sunlit-honey had coloured its chest. The little black mask on its face held nothing back, but instead showed its two eyes - clever and wise - as if this Winters silence had shared with it all the secrets of this world, and it somehow knew that all would be well.

And so the Tree trusted.
And in the company of Hope, the old ragged Tree and it's wise, happy Bird-friend, sat shoulder to shoulder awaiting the Sun...