A Bird Upon The Wing

"The wind!"

"Tie it all down. Make sure nothing can move and is covered."

"Aye."

"Yes, sir."

"Hey, lad, lend me a hand with the ties."

"Sir!"

Fallon raced towards the man waving him over. The wind was pushing the logs all over the place, but tied together, they weren't moving. However, they were moving while the man was tying them. Fallon held them together, as the man quickly knotted the rope in place. They made a bundle each per house, and then started on more.

"With the weather like this, I think we need twain per house."

"How long doth the storm last, do you think?"

"It may last until morning again or maybe a morning after."

"That long? It's barely noon."

"Yes."

"We can't hunt, or fish, and we have to watch the trees. If and when one will land on a pen or house, that is just disaster. At least we're not right on the shore line."

"Is it worse on the shore?"

"Yes, for then, like in my youth, we send a man down to watch the waves, and if they started getting too close, they would sound a horn and run. Awful job that, to have to hide behind a stand just to be able to stand."

"There is that."

"I'd say, I'll take one side, you grab the other."

"Yes, sir."

After that, it was delivering the bundles of wood to each house, or that is what the two of them were doing. All the buckets were getting filled, and the troughs were as well, despite the fact that many of them were still mostly full as they had already filled them earlier. The chickens and cattle were penned, and things were getting moved.

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Ellwyn was getting water. For once, she was glad for the weight in the bucket as it meant that the bucket would not fly away. For once, she was upset at the lightness of the bucket as it was caught by the wind, for it created a drag on her. Her shawl was pinned to her gown, and it was still flapping. She hurried to the house, trying not to spill water while trying not to trip in her haste.

"Mother, I am back."

"Good. Ellwyn, make sure the chickens are tight and fed."

"Yes, Mother."

She hurried out the door. Once there, she headed out and grabbed some weeds, and some other feed, and scattered it on the floor of the coop. She grabbed the water dish, locked the coop, and headed out and filled it with water from the stream before hurrying back. Once back, she once again numbered her chickens and locked the door again.

As she headed inside, a bird was blown into her. It smacked into her arm, and fell, struggling past her. She ran, caught it, and placed it away from the wind against the side of the house. It was not a farm animal, yet she felt like saving it a little anyway. She knew that the little bird would find food easily enough, as the little flies swarmed that they liked to eat in this weather wherever the wind was still. It had a chance at least.