The Walk Of Small Red Wings

Tonight, I am reading a short story I co-created called The Walk of Small Red Wings. This story is loosely based on the strong feelings I experienced after a significant life event. Themes of enduring love, connection, and quiet strength appear in this short piece.

This audio is perfect for children or adults who want to relax, discover magic, or embark on an adventure before a great night's sleep.

Transcript

The Walk of Small Red Wings Some walks are taken to get somewhere, Others are taken simply to remember how to breathe. On a quiet afternoon, When the air carried the first hint of evening coolness, Mara and Evan stepped onto the familiar path near the edge of the park. It was a path they had walked many times before. One that curved gently through tall grasses and old trees, That had watched seasons come and go for longer than either of them had been alive. Neither of them had planned the walk, It was one of those unspoken things. The kind that happens when two people feel the same heaviness at the same time and instinctively move towards something gentle. Grandma had loved this path, She used to say it was where the world felt kindest. Mara remembered that as they walked, Her hands tucked into her sleeves, Her shoulders finally relaxing after a long, Difficult week. Evan walked beside her, Matching her pace without needing to be asked, The quiet between them easy and familiar. The sky was pale and calm, Streaked with soft clouds that drifted slowly, As if even they were in no hurry. They had gone only a few minutes when Evan stopped. Look, He said softly, On the railing beside the path sat a tiny red ladybug, Perfectly still, Its black dotted wings catching the fading light. Mara smiled immediately, Grandma had loved ladybugs too. She used to call them little messengers, Saying they appeared when someone needed reassurance. As a child, Mara had believed it completely. As an adult, She didn't need to believe it literally to feel comforted by the thought. Hi there, Mara whispered, As if the small creature might hear her. They walked on, And soon another ladybug appeared. This one on a leaf, Gently rocking in the breeze, Then another on the trunk of a tree, And another resting on the sleeve of Evan's jacket before lifting it into the air again. It was impossible not to notice. They're everywhere today, Evan said. Mara nodded, Feeling warmth spread quietly through her chest. Grandma would say she's checking in, She said. Evan didn't laugh, He didn't question it. He simply looked around at the small red wings moving through the golden light, And he smiled. Feels like something she'd do, He said. The path curved toward the pond where the water lay smooth and reflective, Holding the sky like a mirror. Ducks drifted lazily near the reeds, And the surface rippled only when one dipped its head beneath. They sat on the bench Grandma used to favor, The wood worn smooth by years of quiet visitors. A ladybug landed gently on Mara's hand. She held still, Watching its tiny legs move with careful purpose across her skin. It felt impossibly light, Barely there, And yet the sensation grounded her in a way she hadn't expected. Sometimes I forget she's gone, Mara said quietly. Not in a sad way, Just, I still feel like I could call her. Evan nodded, His gaze resting on the water. I think she's still around, He said, Just not in the way we're used to. The words settled into the air between them, Calming and reassuring. They watched the pond together, The light shifting slowly toward evening. The world seemed softer here, As if the path itself had memories of every step ever taken along it. Another ladybug touched down on the bench beside them, Then another on the back of Evan's hand. He lifted it gently, Studying it with quiet curiosity. Maybe this is her way of saying we're okay, He said. Mara felt something inside her ease, Not a sudden change, But a gentle loosening, Like a knot slowly unraveling. Maybe, She agreed. They stayed until the sky deepened into shades of lavender and blue, Until the first star appeared faintly overhead. The ladybugs began to disappear, Settling into leaves and bark for the night. When they stood to leave, Mara looked back once more at the pond, At the bench, At the path stretching ahead. Grief had once felt like a heavy storm, Loud and overwhelming. Now it felt more like a quiet tide, Something that came and went, Softened by time and memory. Love hadn't left, It had simply changed form. As they walked back, The air cooled, Carrying the scent of earth and distant wood smoke. A final ladybug landed briefly on Evan's shoulder before lifting into the dimming sky. Mara smiled. Good night, Grandma, Evan whispered. Evan reached for Mara's hand, And they continued together, The path illuminated by the gentle glow of dusk. Some signs are loud and unmistakable, Others are small, Quiet, And easy to miss unless you're looking for them. But love has a way of finding us, Again and again, In memories, In shared moments, In tiny red wings resting softly on our skin. And even as the world darkened into night, Mara felt certain of one thing. They were not walking alone. Love walked with them, Steady, Gentle, Enduring. A warmth that would carry them through whatever came next. As they reached home, The night wrapped around them like a soft blanket, Calm and reassuring, Filled with the quiet promise that those who love us never truly leave. They simply find new ways to stay close. And that is the end of our story this evening. Until next time, Sweet dreams.