I am searching for land. I keep flying, but I see nothing to cling onto, no land in sight.
I am tired, I have no strength left. It's over. It was at that moment that I heard a distant sound, like a siren, but it turned out to be beneath me. A pod of whales. They are right below me. I descend and rest on the forehead of one of them. The others look at me, perhaps curious, but I have a feeling they understand. I am in trouble and I may need help. I think to myself that at any moment the whale I am perched on will disappear into the depths. It's only temporary, and I'll be in trouble again. But to my surprise, the whale keeps floating. And it moves on the surface with powerful tail beats. I see all the others following it. Now devoid of strength, I faint and collapse, unconscious. I don't know if hours or days have passed. I wake up. I feel pain everywhere, but I know I am still alive. I fall asleep again. A sound I know wakes me up. I'm not sure if it's a dream or if what I see through my tear-filled eyes is a palm tree in the mist. I try to get up, and I'm on a beach with other seagulls hovering above me, like me. I'm safe. I don't remember anything except for the rhythmic sound of the whale's spray and its sinuous movements between the waves. I wonder how it's possible that such a different, enormous being took care of a small seagull like me, swam on the surface for so many miles, just to bring me back to land. I fall asleep again. The next day, I try to get up, stretch my wings, and search for food. I am alive.
Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash