She had put this display on for him every year since she had first become aware of him, for a few fleeting days each summer. It was only for him that she presented this feat; and she watched with quiet glee as he sat, so captivated, so fully aware and appreciative of this gesture that she could offer to him. She would watch with an anguished heart as he returned to his spot in the field on the final morning to watch the feathers slowly thin out and disappear, looking solemn and cast back to a reality far less inviting, but her powers confined her display as such. His response moved her indelibly, yet she was left in despair, helpless to do anything as he morosely returned to the place from whence he came, where she could not tread. She would remain perhaps a day or two further, looking out hopefully, before wistfully dropping her head and retreating herself.
Words by Joel Stagg.