Writing | Keesho Bird

"Fledge is a frog who wears a vest. Fledge is a frog who rests the best!” Clyde sang, tossing a basket toward Fledge. "Grab a basket! These dirty peaches will not pick themselves."

In response, Fledge playfully hurled a peach at Clyde. "If these peaches did pick themselves, we could have the day off," he mused. "Honestly, we could be enjoying some of that tasty mushroom soup and listening to more tales about past Crystalmuffinsdays."

Clyde chuckled. "It does not surprise me that you're thinking about food right after a big breakfast. And mushroom soup in this heat? I am certain that you'd eat anything, even rotten, moldy peaches."

Fledge grinned, knowing Clyde's teasing all too well. "I would, yes sir, and I wouldn't give two thoughts on the matter."

Mid-bite into a juicy white, pale peach, Fledge changed the subject. "Are you entering the peach pudding eating contest this year?"

Clyde raised an eyebrow. "I most certainly am not. Have I ever before?"

"No, but this could be the year!" Fledge's excitement bubbled over. "Now that we're of age, we're officially eligible for the pig chase. I could take home the quadruple crown!" Fledge seldom struggled in the eating contest. He usually boasted the best bird costume, spending many days preparing it.

Clyde smirked. "I'm glad this is a big year for you."

"But come on, won't you pig chase with your own brother?" Fledge prodded.

Clyde feigned anxiety. "The thought of an entire village chasing hundreds of pigs for an hour? Gives me the jitters. Besides, Mom said they never actually chased a pig on the first-ever Crystalmuffinsday."

Fledge interjected, "It was Keesho who chased the pig!"

Koa, returning with water, piped up. "Who's Keesho, if you don't mind?"

"Keesho," Clyde explained, "is a giant bird, thousands of years old. It perches atop the mountain, birthed Heartwood Village by bringing water down, and created a river to nourish the pale peach trees along the mountain's base." Moving his hand through the sky in a flying motion while explaining.

Koa's eyes sparkled. "Oh, how I love origin stories!"

Clyde was not impressed with Fledge's enthusiasm. "Still, this year, I'm sticking to my bird costume and decorating our family's Erstwhile Pole."

Fledge dramatically dropped his mouth wide open. "Woodcarving? That is what you're most excited for? That's the most boring part of the entire weekend!"

—

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over Heartwood Village, the trio gathered around Clyde’s familial Erstwhile Pole. Its carved wood stood tall, decorated with detailed carvings that told many tales of the past.

Clyde meticulously placed twinkling lanterns along the pole's branches. "Woodcarving might be mundane," he admitted, "but it connects us to our ancestors. Each stroke of the knife carries their memories."

Fledge, still sprawled in the grass, watched Clyde work. "You're right," he said. "I guess I’m constantly too focused on the festivities."

Clyde laughed and chimed in, “and the food.”

“Food would fall under festivities, Clyde,” Fledge responded playfully. 

Koa leaned in, her eyes wide. "Clyde, Fledge, will you all tell me more about Keesho," she asked.

Clyde obliged. "Well, legend has it that Keesho is the Great Wind Spirit and she guards the mountains that surround us. Her feathers shimmer like moonlight, and her eyes hold secrets. Some say she weaves dreams into the wind like songs that flow through your windows in the night, whispering forgotten stories to those who are lucky enough to hear it."

Koa sat up, intrigued. "And the pig chase?" she asked. "Why do you do it?"

Fledge grinned. "Because tradition demands it! But beyond that, it's a reminder that unity matters. We chase those slippery pigs together, laughing and stumbling, just like our ancestors did."

Koa's gaze shifted to the distant mountain. "I wonder if Keesho approves," she mused. "Maybe she watches you all, and is amused by your antics."

As the lanterns flickered to life, casting patterns on the ground, Clyde turned to Fledge. "Well," he declared, "this year, I'll join you in the pig chase, Fledger. And maybe—just maybe—I'll find a way to honor Keesho while sliding around in the mud."

And so, under the star-studded sky, the three friends laughed and dreamed. Crystalmuffinsday approached, promising magic, mystery, and the warmth of shared traditions.