The Sky on the Ground

The sky looked down on the ground and thought it looked funny. Too pale. It lacked the richness and the growth and all the things that had made the ground always look quite nice, as far as the sky remembered.

    But what could be done about it? Little, thought the sky. But then it thought again. It thought about billowing rains and blustering winds — winds to spread the seeds about and rains to make the seeds grow. This would add the interesting variation that the sky had become accustom to seeing on the ground.

    It did its best to bring the winds and it did its best to bring the rains, but what the sky had not considered was the fact that the birds had become too few to bring the seeds into the air, and the clouds had grown scarce of late, making them difficult to gather.

    Try as the sky might, it could not fix the ground.

    But, small piece by small piece, the sky noticed that the ground had a bit more color, a bit more depth to it. As though someone else had noticed, too. Perhaps someone on the ground itself. And as the ground's depth grew, so did the birds and so did the clouds.

    Suddenly, the sky could rush the winds to blow the seeds and gather the clouds to spread the rain.

    In no time at all, the ground had all the richness it had once possessed.

    And the sky was satisfied.

    

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