“Bedrock…” Thalia read from Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary, “… the solid rock underlying unconsolidated surface materials.”
“Like the boulders that Paintist’s waterfall is cascading over?” Cal asked. “There has to be a better way to paint a distinction between water, rock and sky… Don’t you think?”
“Yes, and,” Nia showed her support for Paintist, “It’s excellent for a first attempt. Why must we always be our own worst critics?”
“What’s up with the bird’s nest perched precariously over the falls?” Cal asked.
Thalia flapped her imaginary wings. “In a note from a friend this morning there was a short story about two artists who were asked to paint pictures of peace as they perceived it. One painted a calm peaceful pond. The other painted a raging, rushing waterfall, which had a tree branch hanging out over the water with a bird resting in a nest. Typist added the fledgling for extra effect.”
“Reminds me of something Typist read long ago. Was it in Business Secrets of the Trappist Monks?” Cal asked. “Something like… It’s easy to be a monk in a monastery, but try taking that tranquility out into the big wide world.”
“And isn’t there a saying about birds?” Thalia continued. “It’s not the branch they trust, but rather their wings?”
Nia smiled. “I’m remembering the Monarch butterfly the kid and Typist watched transform from caterpillar - to chrysalis - to butterfly in a glass carafe. Remember how it levered it’s wings up and down while resting on a purple flower before taking flight?”
Cal and Tal did remember. What a beautiful day that was…
A word from Typist:
In a message to a friend this morning I said, “Bedrock of my childhood. Came out in 1977 when my mom was sick.”
I was referencing the movie Oh, God! with George Burns, John Denver, and Terri Garr. Last night I watched the film on Amazon Prime… What an absolute delight.
Do you believe in Bedrock — Can you trust the wind beneath your wings?
I can, and do.